Prom Posals and Dialysis
by ForTheLore
Summary: There's a lot going on in Kyle Broflovski's life; senior year, kidney transplants, relationships, graduation, and trying to accept his new boyfriend. With so much drama going on in his life, will he make it to Prom? Or will the pressure of being a jewish daywalker weigh him down?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Woohoo, a new story that I actually have planned out so I'm not just blundering about without a plot! Please read and review! :) and above all enjoy!

Chapter 1

"Kyle Broflovski?" A firm voice echoed down the hall to the waiting room. The pitch was all too familiar for the redhead that stood from his chair,a mothers's careful grip on his arm. "Right this way," The nurse sighed softly rushing down the hall, leading the mother-son duo to a small room decorated with inspirational posters, and childish drawings. It should have made the patient feel slightly better, but Kyle could only feel a bitter salty taste on the tip of his tongue.

"What seems to be the problem?" The practitioner queried as she wrapped the pressure cup around his arm. Kyle sighed brushing a hand down his face as he looked at his mother in annoyed exhaustion, unable to stop himself from thinking that she was making a big deal out of nothing, as was typical for the short ball of Jewish rage.

"My mother seems to think there's something wrong with my kidneys again." Kyle grunted out leaning his head back against the leather exam table. "I'm sure its just a cold or something." He murmured through tired lips.

Sheila pursed her lips together as she shot her son an unhappy glance. "He's a type one diabetic, and we've been through the whole kidney thing before. I know the signs!" She placed a motherly hand on her son's forehead as she stared the nurse down. "He's been urinating a lot more, and he's tired more often. I want to see his levels tested to make sure."

"Well…let's see what the doctor says first. Blood pressure is one forty over ninety—"

"That's elevated for his age!" Sheila squawked glaring at the nurse. "That's an early sign of renal failure!"

"It's also a sign of fever, or an infection Ma," Kyle sighed flinching at the aggravated glare his mother tossed at him. "I know, I know, that's another sign." He grunted rolling his eyes, more than ready to be done and out of the stupid office.

"Like I said," The nursed murmured giving up whatever façade she had as a cheerful woman. "We should see what the doctor wants to order first. He'll be right with you." She rushed out the door with a slight eye roll. Kyle certainly couldn't blame her behavior, he was right there with her. His mother could be the biggest pain in his ass on a good day.

"Ma, you shouldn't do that." He mumbled staring at the white spackled ceiling. As a child, he would often find amusement in picking out designs while he waited for the doctor. Now, he simply wanted the roof and room to vanish, to be back home sleeping in his bed on his day off.

"Do what bubbleh?" Sheila questioned innocently. Kyle heaved pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit picked up from Stan long ago. He knew that his fiery mother grasped what he was saying and simply didn't want to deal with it. "I just want to make sure it isn't another episode is all. You remember the last time we waited too long to get your albumin tested?" She brushed her hand along his arm in a relatively soothing manner.

"Yea, I'm still hearing about it. Cartman won't fucking drop it." He moaned covetously. The idea of any part of the fat ass being inside him, or near him for that matter, offended him greatly.

"Language," Sheila hissed with a sharp slap to the spot she was rubbing. "You should be more grateful to him! He saved your life."

"Please remember that he was coerced into it," Kyle piqued. "He wouldn't have done it if Stan hadn't tricked him." Of course, his mother wouldn't remember the events the same way he had. She was blindly kept at a distance when he was child.

"He still did it though," She sighed perking at the knock on the door.

"Hello," A young brunette doctor stepped into the field. Everything about him screamed that he was new to the area, and even newer to his field of work. Kyle tensed looking him over; Sheila as going to walk all over him. His mother could be as awful as a swarm of sharks if she felt the need to be. "I'm Doctor Ruthbarn." He calmly sat himself on his stool before opening his patient profile.. "What seems to be the matter today?"

"Kyle has been having some kidney related-" Sheila blinked as the doctor held up his hand to stop her.

"With all due respect Mrs. Broflovski, I would like to hear directly from Kyle." He smiled cautiously at her before turning back to his notes. "I think he would be better apt to tell me his exact symptoms."

"What!?" Sheila screeched appalled at simply being brushed off.

"Ma, just go sit in the waiting room please." Kyle snapped trying to push back an ebbing headache—a malady that his mother seemed to cause more often lately. Sheila squared her shoulders looking at her son perturbed before snuffing and storming out of the small room. "Sorry about her... She's over protective."

"Its no problem," Dr. Ruthbarn chuckled jotting a note on a paper. "We have several mothers like her come through." Warm blue eyes looked up as he placed his arms on his lap comfortably. "Now, mind telling me why she's dragged you here?"

"She thinks I'm showing early signs of renal failure. High blood pressure, urinating more frequently, sometimes a fever." Kyle scoffed trying to find interest in anything other than the situation at hand.

"Hm….it says you've had a kidney transplant before…and AIDS…and HIV…and chicken pox." Ruthbarn arched a brow as he double checked the information. "But you've never had sex?" The jew's face flamed up as red as his hair as he floundered to respond.

"It's South Park. Those all happened on a normal day." Kyle pouted before leaning forward. "Cartman, the fat ass who hangs out with my group, gave me HIV and AIDS, and no, it wasn't through sex." The jew about gagged at the thought of him and his not-friend-but-friend locked in a coital embrace. "He's pretty ingenious for a dumbass."

"That's pretty contradictory," The doctor chuckles jotting more notes. "So lets talk about your diabetes then."

"I've been type one since I was two. And when I was eight when I had to have a kidney transplant. Oddly enough the kidney came from Cartman." The redhead snorted nearly throwing himself back on the table to avoid another curiously arched brow.

"Hm…Then I can see where your mother's worry comes from. Have you had any nausea lately? Any fatigue or weakness? Any itching?"

"Fatigue, but I've always worn out pretty easily." Kyle nodded quietly, trying to ignore the flare of anxiety taking place in his stomach. It had been a fairly close call last time, and he highly doubted that anyone could convince Cartman to kill himself so Kyle could have his other kidney—no matter how beneficial to the world it would be.

"Alright. Then let's have you go to the lab and give a few blood samples. I'd like to go ahead and check your BUN and creatinine levels, make sure they're all right. If it is another bout of renal failure, I want to catch it early, do my best to keep you off of dialysis." Ruthbarn nodded as he checked over his notes, making sure he didn't forget to address anything. "How are you on your insulin? Do you need another refill?" He glanced up catching Kyle's affirmative before shutting his folder and reaching for his prescription pad. "One last thing," He quipped dragging his hand in a quick scribbling motion. "I'm a bit concerned about your weight. You're underweight for a young man your size." He glanced up to a replicated glare—very similar to the mother that was currently waiting on a hard plastic chair.

"I'm eating. If that's what you mean," Kyle snapped aggressively jumping down from the exam table. If the doctor wanted to accuse him of some nonexistent eating disorder, then he could watch him leave as he flipped him off.. "I'm on the track team with a high metabolism. It's hard to put on weight when my body burns so many calories."

Ruthbarn held up his hands in submission. "I didn't mean to offend you. Just wanted to make sure there weren't any other complications." He chuckled softly handing Kyle the note and stretching. "I want to see you back in two weeks for a glucose documentation, and I'll call you with the lab results." He opened the door for Kyle to step through and followed him out. "Kayla, at the front desk, can get your appointment all set up. And if there is any change in symptoms go straight to the hospital, okay?"

It wasn't like he didn't know the routine, but Kyle still found himself nodding along with the doctor's rules.

"Alright, I'll see ya then kiddo." Ruthbarn chuckled before rushing off to his next appointment. He didn't see the scowl directed at his back.

"Kayla?"

A blonde nurse looked up and smiled warmly from her paper work before rushing over.

"What can I do for ya, sweety?" She chirped clicking away on her screen to pull up the doctors schedule.

"I need an appointment for two weeks from now." Kyle sighed leaning on the small trestle that jutted out just beyond the window.

"Morning or afternoon?"

"Afternoon, if possible after three thirty." Kyle tried to picture his schedule in his mind for so far ahead. The only thing he had planned for sure, was his track practice and a few days set aside specifically for studying and getting ahead in said studies.

"Alright, how about Thursday the twenty third at four twenty?" The blonde glanced up at him with a cock of her head. Kyle hummed softly before nodding.

"That's fine,"He shrugged his shoulder, hiking his bag up higher on his shoulder.

"Alright," Kayla chanted typing away, and confirming the allotted time. Her hand darted across her desk to grab an appointment card, writing his time slot on it, and handed it to him. "You're all set Mr. Broflovski! We'll see you in two weeks!"

"Thanks Kayla," He nodded before heading into the lobby to grab his mother. "C'mon ma," He huffed as she waddles her way over to him. "We gotta go to the lab. The doctor wants to get some samples."

Sheila nodded approvingly as she followed her son out into the chilled hallway of the shares medical building.

"Maybe that man does have a bit of a brain so fresh out of school!" She quipped trying to keep in step with her son. Kyle did his best to repress the urge to scoff, letting out a breathy groan instead. "Oh bubbleh, you know mommy only wants what's best!"

"I know," Kyle sighed rubbing his face once more. "It can just be overwhelming when I'm not feeling too good." Sheila nodded sympathetically managing to rub a small soothing circle in the center of his shoulders.

"Poor bubbleh, when we get home you need to rest. I'm not even sure if you're going to school tomorrow." She murmured softly as she ushered him down the hall to the lab.

Kenny McCormick hated being alone with his thoughts. They often travelled off on some unforeseen path, and wander about the forest that is his brain. Such anomalies tended to lead to the excitable blonde daydreaming about a certain red that was just out of his reach.

"God damnit," Kenny cursed leaning his head against the stained wall, doing his best to ignore the beating thrum of the bass. His parents had invited a few friends over to celebrate a random Sunday night, it happened so often it was practically routine.

"Hey, Ken?" Karen questioned popping her head into the cluttered room. "You okay?" Cautiously she stepped her way through the mess laying about the floor, and flopped herself onto the worn out mattress..

"Yea," He chuckles curiously throwing his legs instantly into her lap. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, ya aren't downstairs drinkin' yerself silly, for one." She chirped shoving the ratty socked feet off her lap. "Yer usually one of the first ones to drink your sorrows."

"Well, maybe I ain't feelin' to sorrowful." He chuckles stretching his arms out sitting up straighter. "I was just thinkin' honestly."

"About a certain redhead?" Karen giggled at the slight flush working its way up her older brother's cheeks. "You really should just tell him."

"And what? Get my nose broken? No thank you, Karen! I ain't that stupid, and besides, he hasn't even come out of the closet yet. The last thing I need is an angry red-haired jewish boy. Add a closet and I'm doomed!" Kenny snorted trying to dodge the hand aimed to his head.

"Whatever," Karen shook her head giggling alongside her brother. "Maybe he just feels the closet is his safe zone around you, ya horndog." Kenny opened his mouth for a retort, but found none befitting.

"Touché," He chortled kicking his sister's leg ever so lightly. Kenny could never imagine himself hurting his little sister. She was the only one who could read him as clearly as a book. Sometimes, it was confusing, how she could take a single look at him and know something was bugging him, but he often found comfort in their sibling banter. "Karen," He eyed her carefully, his heart swelling with pride as he took in the ladylike posture she carried herself with. "I really love you."

Karen eyed him warily before melting into a soft smile and punching his shoulder. "Love you too, Ken."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Welcome back! I hope you guys have enjoyed the first chapter! :) As always, please read and review! I'm always open to criticism! (Especially grammar and spelling!)

Chapter 2

Kenny received the invitation in the last fifteen minutes of his drama class.

Can you bring me my makeup work?- K

Sure thing! You ok? Ain't like you to miss school~

I'm fine. My mother is overreacting again.

Hey if it means I get to see your sexy face she can be crazy all she wants!

Kenny…shut up.

The blonde snorted reading the last message before slipping his purple Motorola razor into his back pocket. The phone was a hand-me-down from the same red head he was texting. At first, Kenny hadn't wanted to accept the gift; thinking it far too expensive, and not wanting to read too onto the notion. But once he saw Kyle playing excitedly on his new iPhone, he was quick to take the upgrade.

School had out five minutes ago, and Kenny was left to decide on skipping drama club or staying. . Pro for skipping: he could spend more tome with Kyle. Con: He could catch whatever it was that Kyle had. Definitely more time. He could handle being down with a cold for a few days. Hell, he could use catching it as bait to have Kyle bring him medicine and any further thought, Kenny rushed to his locker before stopping by all of Kyle's classes.

The amount of work that Kyle took on was back breaking. Kenny hadn't realized just how much homework teacher's in the honors courses assigned. There were at least seven different work sheets that needed to be filled out. Four of which had mathematical equations that made his head spin and only one of them was for his mathematics class itself. Slowly working his way down the hall towards the parking lot, Kenny made a mental note to ask Kyle about his management skills, because he was thoroughly impressed with how the boy always found time to hang out with him and the gang.

Dude, why didn't ya get Stanny Boy to bring this junk?

And have him freak out because I'm sick? No thanks! –K

Hes gonna freak no matter what he noticed you weren't there today.

And? Then he can come and visit me properly. –K

Ya'll arguin again?

It'll be fine. –K

Kenny sighed heavily dropping his bag and extras on the seat of his busted up chevy. Kyle and Stan was like an on again off again couple; they even argued like a couple. He'd have thought that by now, he would be used to being the crutch. But he would't lie to himself either. When Kyle relied on him instead of Stan, an entire horde of butterflies found their colony in his abdomen. His heart would flutter, and he'd feel heat rush through the entirety of his body—a profound feeling that he was quickly finding addicting.

The drive through town was short and uneventful. Which was eventful in itself considering the town that they lived in. It surprised Kenny how things turned out for everyone. Stan's parents got divorced, and then remarried. Stan himself quickly became quarter back of the football team in order to get his dad's approval. Cartman was still Cartman, but with a job. Which utterly surprised Kenny. He figures the brunette would try to sponge off his mother forever. Kyle was too in to school to be really focused on anything else. But every mow and then the red head made time to sit down and read through books far to complicated for Kenny to understand—no surprise there. And when Kenny wasn't busy bugging Kyle, or partying, or lost in his own traitorous thoughts…he wrote. It was a secret that he planned to keep hidden for as long as possible. He didn't want the guys to call him a pansy for documenting his life.

The old beat up Chevy struggled as it crested the final hill to Kyle's house. With a quick glance, the olive dual-level home seemed to glow under a single ray of light. Of course, he was exaggerating a bit. If it ever stopped snowing in South Park long enough for the clouds to break apart, damn skippy some kind of alien, or government radar was the ray coming through—not the sun.

Kenny parked his truck on the side of the road just in front of Kyle's house. The butterflies found his stomach once more, and the blonde had to take just a moment to calm himself. Sometimes, the flaxen boy was surprised just how much control he could have when around the Jew. If it were anyone else, Kenny,frankly, would have ripped his jeans off and shoved them into the bed. As was befitting of his image and personality at school. Kyle,however. Kyle had a spell cast over him that controlled his natural urges, but still gave him the high he was looking for when he fucked the others.

"God damnit Kenny, calm down." He growled out placing his hand over his chest and inhaling deeply. He could still feel the quick thudding under the tips of his fingers.

"Having a minor panic attack?" A small confident voice asked as his passenger door was ripped open. It took everything Kenny had not to die right there. Annoyed cerulean eyes shot a malignant glare at the raven haired preteen scooting himself into the truck. "Don't die. I haven't learned CPR yet."

"What the fuck Ike? You can't just pop up like that!" Kenny squeaked after he was sure his heart wouldn't explode in his chest.

"Yes I can," The adopted Canadian arched his brow curiously. "You're sitting in front of my house. I kind of ya know…live here. In fact, it would be weird for me not too." Ike opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off by a high pitch jingle erupting from his pocket "One second." His hand fumbled in his pocket pulling out a phone similar to Kyle's. "What? I'm right outside."

Kenny bit his lip in an attempt to not laugh at the screeching on the other line of the phone. There were only two redheads in south park that could scream like a banshee when they felt the need and one of them was inside the house.

"Fine! Holy christ, I'm bringing your boyfriend in." He jabbed the red end button and glowered at Kenny. "He wants to know why I'm not home yet. Anyway, just go ahead in. I think I'll hide out here a bit longer. At least until he cools down."

"That's cool, just don't burn all my gas using the heater. I can't afford a tank a week like some people." Kenny chuckles climbing out of the car with books and materials in hand. "Also, if I'm the one who gets the shit knocked out of him for the boyfriend comment…I'll kick your ass."

"Tsk…Language Kenny! What would my mother say if she knew you talked like that around me?" Ike smirked deviously as he lightly tilted his head to his left shoulder.

"You're a little shit. Stop hanging out with Cartman." He laughed as Ike paled before turning an angry red color that only the Broflovski family could. Genetically related or not, there was no doubt that Ike was a part of the family and lineage.

"I can so find reasons to sue you McCormick. Just keep it up." Ike snorted crossing his arms and sinking lower into the seat.

"For what? A rust bucket and a few tires?" Kenny snorted slamming the door and rushing inside. A wave of warm air belted out the house coating Kenny in the smell of Cinnamon. Sheila Broflovski definitely had heroic sinuses if she didn't suffer the onset of congestion that was already taking place in Kenny's brow. "Love bug! I'm home!" He called out kicking off his shoes and made his way towards the stairs.

"Call me that again and I'll break your neck on the stairs McCormick!" Came the ever aggrieved voice of Kyle Broflovski. Red curls were the first thing Kenny saw as he crested the stairs.

"Aw, don't be that way!" Kenny snickered before stepping onto the landing and coming face to fave with a rather upset Kyle. "What's wrong pumpkin?" Kyle growled sending his fist into the blonde's shoulder.

"I swear to god, Kenny. I will break your neck if you keep at it." Green eyes snared Kenny in an angry lock.

"Woah, woah,woah," Kenny raises his hands in submission. "What's with the sandy vagina today?" The blonde cackled as he watched his friend's face turn a whole new shade of red.

"Kenny," Kyle inhaled deeply and exhaled long and slow. "Just hand me my homework and get out." The fawn haired boy pouted crossing his arms over his chest before dancing around his Jew, stepping into his room. "Kenny!" Kyle whined glaring at him before groaning heavily and slamming his door. "Fine. Whatever."

"Hey," Kenny pursed his lips watches as Kyle crossed the room and collapsed into his bed. "You okay?" He worked his way to the computer desk and sat himself in the chair. Looking at the redhead now, Kenny could see why he hadn't gone to school. His skin was pale and clammy; like he was feverish and cold at the same time. There were bags under his eyes that made him look twice his age. "You look like shit."

"Jee Ken, and here I thought I was getting ready for a pageant." Kyle snorted shoving his face into his arms exhaustedly.

"Watch it," Kenny huffed glaring slightly at the attitude. Sure, he could feel like, but it certainly wasn't okay for him to take his frustrations out on Kenny. "You could have had Stan bring you the work just easy. I ain't a push over like him." The blonde bit back an eye roll at the lie. Kyle could ask him to jump off a bridge and Kenny would do it if in the end he could get just a kiss.

"Sorry," Kyle sighed and rubbed his temple. "And I did. But he's out with Wendy…again."

"So you're jealous?" Kenny grinned deviously as he watched Kyle bristle like an angry cat. "Joking,joking." He held his hands up in defeat. Better to make a friend, than an enemy.

"You really need to learn to filter," Kyle grunted from his position. Kenny sighed softly before moving to sit beside the redhead. His heart picked up pace, and he'd swear that Kyle could hear it.

"Okay. I'll stop with the teasing. But be honest okay?"

Kyle sighed nodding his head. He knew what was coming, and he knew he didn't plan on letting Kenny know.

Kyle waves to his friend as the blonde trudged down the snowed in drive way. It had been easy enough to come up with a temporary lie that made sense. After all, no use telling him something that he wasn't even sure of yet.

"Bubblah? You feeling okay?" His mother's voice broke through the wall of thought blocking Kyle's mind from any progress on his homework. "Maybe you should stay home from school tomorrow too." She bit her lip leaning against the door frame.

"No, I can't afford to miss another day. Besides, I don't think they'll be calling so soon." Kyle looked at his mom. "I need to keep myself busy and my mind off it. I don't want anyone to know until it's for sure." He dropped his pen on his bed and let out a shuddery breath.

"Oh honey," She whispered easing her way to his side and draping a comforting arm over his shoulder. "It's okay to be scared."

"I'm not scares. There's too much that happens in South Park for this to be something that scares me. Does it worry me? Yes. But it doesn't honestly scare me." Kyle stared at his hands in thought. "It's having everyone worrying about me that scares me."

Sheila nodded running her fingers through her son's hair. She wouldn't admit it to him, but she was terrified for him. The thought of losing him so early on had always lingered at the back of her mind, and it was so easily exacerbated. Most people would describe her as over bearing, and obnoxious. But their child didn't have diabetes. Their child didn't have to have a kidney transplant at age eight. They didn't have to sob to their husband every time she was reminded that Kyle's kidneys were still having a hard time breaking down the proteins that were polluting their child's blood. But, as a mother, she couldn't let that fear be prevalent when dealing with the general population. So she would hold it in and provide the comfort Kyle didn't know he needed.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello again! :) Last chapter was secretly hard to write. I like to make stories move along fast, and while chapter two had a big part in a few things while also giving me a chance to develop Kenny a bit, it made Kyle seem a bit harsh! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 3

Kyle was starting to really hate seeing white walls. He understood there was a clinical cleanliness to it, but he felt like they were everywhere. They were at the primary care center, the hospital, his school. It was as if all the color was seeping out of his life, turning all the hue's into a monochromatic rainbow.

The call came this morning, while he was getting ready for school. His mother had rushed through a garbled conversation before turning to him with such an apologetic look; one that should have never been on her face in the first place.

"I'm so sorry bubbie," She whispered before he simply threw his bag on the ground and raced back up the stairs.

"Broflovski," A stern voice called out breaking Kyle from his reverie of thoughts. "Come on back hon." It was the same nurse from his first visit. She placed her hand on his back leading him softly to the scale, noting his weight, then continued to lead him back into one of the examination rooms. "He'll be with you shortly." She nodded quietly before slipping out of the door, allowing it to shut softly.

"It'll be okay Kyle." His mom placed a hand on his knee. He knew it was meant to be comforting, but he could feel no solace. This would be his second time to have a kidney give out—at least one anyway. What were the chances that he would get okay only to fall prey to his damned sugar levels again? It was exhausting to say the least; constantly checking his levels, making sure he was doing everything right, and his damned kidney's still fail.

"Mom," He sighed shaking his head and pushing her hand off softly. "Don't say that just yet. They don't call us in here when the news is okay." He pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned his head back against the wall. Thoughts of what it was that he could do now flew through his mind, but none really resonated what he should do. He knew that being called back in meant that his albumin levels were high. This probably meant at least a pill, and in the worst case, another bout of dialysis.

"Don't be so negative Kyle! You don't really know!" She sighed heavily and slumped back in her chair heavily glaring just a bit at her son. She hated seeing such a negative attitude on the usually feisty and bright child. Sheila was just opening her mouth to chastise him some more when there was a knock at the door.

Kenny sighed heavily dropping his bags by his door in his living room. Kyle had missed school again, and he hadn't been asked to bring him his homework. He assumed that at this point he had asked Stan to bring it.

"I'm home," He called making his way into the rundown kitchen. He hated living in the run down shack that was considered their home. There were holes in the walls and water stains dripping through the rough. He was almost positive that if an inspector were to come, they would be asked to leave the house while it was put on quarantine. There were probably four different types of mold growing in his kitchen alone.

"Hey bro," Karen hummed from the creaky dining room table. "You hungry?" She held up a half of a sandwich she had probably managed to nab from a friend before she left school.

"Nah, I'm good." He sat across from her letting his shoulders slump back and melt against the chair. "How was your day?"

"Same as usual, dealing with friend drama, hot guys, beautiful girls, it was all boring!" She chuckled watching her brother's face blanch. Kenny never did like the idea of her growing up, but she didn't particularly have a choice in it.

"You shouldn't be into guys just yet. Besides, we're all a bunch of assholes," Kenny nodded definitely. He would try and keep his baby sister away from boys as long as possible. With the McCormick luck, she would only have to smile at a guy to end up pregnant. Most certainly not something he could handle at the moment.

"And you shouldn't be into guys period, but you're always mooning over Kyle!" She chirped. Kenny felt his face heat up in shock.

"Karen!" He yelped causing her to giggle a bit more. There were very few things that could get Kenny to turn red. He could sit there and listen to people describe their sex life, hell he could watch them do it, get into it, and he wouldn't turn a single shade darker. Mention him having an actual crush on someone, and he would go up in flames.

"Just saying. Besides, why are you home so early? Didn't he miss school today?" She bit into the other half of her sandwich eyeing her brother over the crust.

"Yea, but he didn't ask me to bring his homework. I texted him earlier, I'm waiting to hear back." He chuckled softly setting his phone on the table.

They were low. Kyle sighed rubbing his forehead shakily. Go figure, go fucking figure.

"Bubbie," His mother sniffled as she pulled the car into the driveway. "We need to talk about options."

"We don't know how far it's progressed, yet."

"I know," She sighed softly staring at the green house before her. Images of it suddenly just being her, her husband, Ike flooded into her mind. Tears sprung to the corner of her eyes, but she shook them away. "But we need to know what options you have available. You heard the doctor, they want to run a few more tests. If they come back normal, then we've really caught it early and you'll just have a stricter diet."

"And if we haven't caught it early?" Kyle snapped, even though he knew. He knew and he hated it, because it meant it would be a lifestyle change. He would have to schedule hanging out with his friends around Dialysis, he would start missing school on a regular basis. Above all, he still didn't want people knowing. If he had to go to the stupid doctor once a week, they would start to notice.

"Then we need to look into dialysis until we can get a transplant if it's needed." She stated firmly. Her son could be annoying negative when he wanted to, and it left her wondering whom he got the trait from.

"Mom," Kyle sighed aggravated before slamming the door and climbing out of the car. He didn't want to deal with it all right now. There was too much playing through on his mind for him to comprehend everything. He slumped in through the door, collapsing on the couch before remembering that he had turned his phone off. He dug his finger into the small button, trying not to get annoyed when the device rang loudly with alerts.

Ky? U ok? –Stan

U ok?- Kenny

Ur not rplyn so im comin over-Kenny

U gonna come to my game tonight?-Stan

Kyle sighed dropping his phone on his lap.

"You're just gonna ignore us?" A voice hummed from the kitchen. Kyle turned to find both of his friends standing in the doorway. Kyle's breath caught in his throat as he took in the oversized orange hoodie, and the blue puffball hat.

"Guys," He whispered shakily. Sheila stepped into the house looking up to see her son's friends standing in the doorway.

"Oh, hello Stanley, Kenny!" She smiled draping her scarf on the coat rack. "Is Gerald home?"

"Upstairs," Stan nodded his head to the stairs that lead to the bedrooms and Mr. Broflovski's office. The redheaded woman nodded softly before slipping up the stairs without uttering a single word. The boys found that strange in itself.

"So, you feelin okay?" Kenny flopped himself down beside his quiet friend. "It's not like you to miss school two days in a row."

"Could be better honestly," Kyle sighed softly closing his eyes and leaning back against the couch. He enjoyed the sinking feeling as the cotton attempted to draw him in to a plush hug.

"Want to talk about it?" Stan asked sitting himself on Kyle's other side. He couldn't ignore the tension in his super best friend's shoulders, nor the red tinge to his cheeks that meant he had probably cried a little while ago.

"Yes and no," Kyle grunted dragging his hand over his face. He wanted to scream it out to the world, how it had screwed him over time and time again and he was sick of it. But at the same time, he didn't want anyone to know because he enjoyed being treated like he was okay. He liked being rough housed with, and knowing that perhaps his social life didn't have to change at all.

"Well, which one is it?" Kenny pouted digging his elbow into Kyle's side. The blonde watched the red head flinch lightly before feeling the small pang as Kyle punched his shoulder.

"Preferably no. At least right now." Kyle breathed through his nose before sitting up straighter. "So do you still want me to go to your game tonight?"

"Dude, yea," Stan chuckled bumping his shoulder into Kyle's. "But only if you're feeling okay. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine. I'll be there," Kyle chuckled stretching his arms high. "But until then, how about we play a video game?"

Kyle would admit happily that he enjoyed the fall back into their typical routine. Kyle dying violently every time; Kenny rubbing it in his face only to be slayed by Stan. It was normal, and expected.

"Alright," Stan sighed checking his watch. "I've gotta meet Wendy before the game, so I'll see you two after!"

"Gonna have a good luck fuck?" Kenny grinned deviously, grunting only when Kyle slapped the back of his head.

"None of your business if we do anyway." Stan chuckled rolling his eyes before standing from the couch and tugging on his jacket. "I'll see you guys there!"

"See you there!" Kyle called waving lightly before facing Kenny and sighing heavily. "Are you going to come with me?"

"If you want me to I will," Kenny nodded watching as the tension returned to his shoulders. "Now tell me for real what's up. Kyle Broflovski doesn't miss two days of school in a row and then goes to a football game like it was nothing." He crossed his arms staring down at the redhead.

"Well yea," Kyle smiled tightly before realizing his backpack was by the door. "Did either of you manage to stop off and pick up my homework before coming over?" He crossed the room giving Kenny a chance to look him over.

"Nah, I didn't. But I don't know if Stan did or not. We don't really hang out much if you're not there." Kenny shrugged his shoulders. It was sad, but truthful. Overtime, the group had kind of separated, only congregating once Kyle was within sights. In all honesty, Kenny doubted he would have hung out with Stan or Cartman if Kyle didn't. But that could be said about anything that he did.

"Hm," Kyle sighed softly. It wasn't like he had asked them to bring it to him; his head had been far too full and busy to think of such a thing. "What about Drama club? Anything I've missed?"

"Nothing major," Kenny shook his head softly staring ahead at the table. "Just practicing some screen play one of the kids wrote. It's about some love triangle, a romance."

"Oh," He scrunched his head nose before leaning back and glancing over to the blonde then to the clock sitting on the wall. "Well we've got two hours. Want to go out and get pizza or play more games?"

"Pizza. You need to be more social," Kenny smirked playfully flinching away from a pouty glare.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Oh wow, sorry guys! Time has really gotten away with me on this one huh? I'm really sorry about not updating, but hopefully this chapter makes up for it!**

Chapter 4

Kyle was absolutely determined not to miss school the following day—even with the after party hangover still strangling his senses.

"You don't have to go sweety," His mother leaned against his door frame wearing the same pink robe she'd had since he was a child. "I don't mind if you need to miss one more day."

"Mom," He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose before turning to face her and slipping on his jacket. "I really just want things to get back to normal. Or at least as normal as they can be considering. And besides," He grabbed his backpack grumpily. "I don't want anyone finding out, and me missing school certainly isn't going to help that." He pushed past the overbearing woman and jogged down the stairs jangling his car keys. "Hurry up Ike! I'm ready to go!"

"It takes time to look this good Kyle!" Ike retorted sticking his overly gelled head out of the bathroom. Sheila smiled warmly at the display of normalcy. But still, something nagged at the back of her mind, negatively infiltrating her senses, and causing her heart to twinge in a depressed anxiety. After all, her children were always so well behaved, never at all like that Eric Cartman. So why did her good lord see it fit to let this illness befall her child?

Ike Broflovski had accidentally found the papers in his mother's purse in the early morning rush of getting ready. The words played, twirled, and danced inside his mind. Certainly his brother would have trusted him with something important like this. He could help him look into options, and ways to get his other kidney active, and in control of what was going on.

"It's not uncommon for people to live with only one working kidney." He stated quietly as he stared ahead at the red light that had stopped his brother. "You could just get it removed. And they could always put you on a list for when another kidney comes in."

He watched as tension filled his brother's shoulders and his head fell back against the headrest. Exhaustion seated itself on the redhead's face. Ike felt guilt build up in his gut. Medically, his history was perfect. Neither of his biological parent's had any signs of major diseases in their family. He only ever got head colds, and even then they were never as major as they were for Kyle. The poor boy just had an awful immune system.

"Ike," Kyle sighed opening his eyes and hitting the gas pedal. The small car lurched forward as the fuel pulsed through its system. "You were in mom's purse weren't you?" He didn't have to question, he knew exactly how his brother had found the news. His brother was certainly smart and could hunt down information quicker than a police dog finds the perpetrator. What irked him was that he knew Ike would worry about him as much as his mother did. "Look, it's just a repeat of history. I got through it last time, I can get through it this time."

"But really? Twice in one patient, Kyle? It's not so common..." Ike fidgeted. When he was old enough to understand just how sick his brother was, and how unhealthy his immune system was, he made it his job to research and keep his brother on a good healthy diet.

"And getting cured for AIDS, HIV, and having Cartman anally probed by aliens is common?" Kyle scoffed turning his blinker on at the Junior high. Ike pursed his lips.

"For South Park, yes." The raven retorted quickly, uncannily using the same excuse Kyle had given the doctor in his previous visit. "But you having kidney problem's twice isn't."

"Ike," Kyle warned. He didn't want the subject pressed any further. In fact, he wanted to forget it all together and get back to what he knew as his own normalcy. "Just forget about it okay? Nothing is going to happen, and nothing is going to go wrong. I promise." He reached over and squeezed his brother's shoulder. "Go and have a good day. I'll be by to pick you up after Stan's practice okay?"

Ike sighed heavily but nodded climbing out of the car. Worry still seated itself in his gut, but was quickly pushed out of the way when he saw a blonde girl wearing jeans that were too tight, and a thin sweater rush past him.

"Hey, Karen!" He waved slamming the door, and ignoring Kyle's screeches about being careful before speeding off. "Wait up!" If anyone could offer him any kind of comfort and idea's of what to do with the information he held, it was certainly Karen McCormick.

"What's up?" She hummed as she slowed and waited for her black haired friend to catch up. Sometimes, she wondered if Ike was actually a Marsh instead of being an adopted Canadian child. He matched up with the family genetic's pretty well. And then the whole Terrance and Phillip catastrophe popped into her head, and she was sure he was a Broflovski above all.

"I need to talk to you about something important..." Ike sighed heavily. She could see the anxiety on his face as he dug around in his backpack, producing a thick bundle of papers. He held them out to her letting her glance them over.

"Oh shit," She muttered as the bell rang. "We can talk more at lunch...I can't be late to another class this week. Kenny is already all over my case. But Ike...I'm sorry for your brother."

Ike nodded solemnly before taking the paper's back and shoving them in his bag.

"Run Stan!" Kyle yelled enthusiastically from the bleachers. Stan glanced up at him before pushing himself to run faster and farther down the field doing his best to avoid any and all contact with the members of the opposing faction. "Go! Damnit Token watch his left! HIS left!"

"You're awful loud today." Kenny chuckled just behind his redhaired friend. Kyle yelped turning to shove the boy in the orange parka. "Hey now, no need to be so rude." Kenny grinned deviously before cheering Stan on beside him. "You missed drama club for this? Man, talk about rebellion. At least yesterday you were actually sick."

"Shut up Kenny," Kyle snorted before yelping out excitedly for Stan's mock touch down. It was a game between the team to help them better their offense and defense players. "I wasn't feeling up to the drama club today. Literally, too much drama from everything else I've heard today. Seems that a lot of the girls are pretty upset that you screwed Jenna." Kyle leaned back from the fence crossing his arms over his chest. It would still be at least another twenty to thirty minutes before Stan came out from the showers.

"Hey, she was hot okay? And we were both drunk. And if any of the girls just asked, I'd be happy to please them too!" Kenny chuckled flopping down on the bleachers. "But seriously, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine Kenny." Kyle sighed sitting beside his friend. He felt a bit guilty about lying to him, but he didn't feel up to telling him just yet. Even though he knew Kenny could keep a secret.

"You're lying." Kenny snorted rolling his eyes softly. He knew Kyle well enough to be able to tell. After all, he had lost count long ago of how many hours he had spent watching Kyle laugh and smile and flirt with everyone but him. "But I won't push you. Just know that if you need to talk about it I am here."

Ike paced outside the school waiting for Karen. At lunch, she still hadn't come up with a clear cut idea on how he could help his brother. But she had comforted him and told him that she would be there if he ever needed to talk.

"Ike," Karen called as she finally get out of the school building. Her hair swung around her as she jogged over, giving Ike a very uncomfortable feeling of butterflies. "Sorry I'm late. Freaking teacher wanted to talk to me about some missing assignments." She smiled sheepishly.

Karen McCormick was very easily one of the smartest girls in school—one of the many reasons Ike found himself hanging out with her more and more. However, with her home life being as it was, she still found herself falling behind in certain subjects. Her brother often tried to get her to keep up with her work better, but when he was the best influence in her life...well it didn't leave much to the imagination.

"It's cool," Ike smiled forgiving. Not like he ever actually be mad at her. The butterflies that still littered through his stomach told him that much. "Did you get everything taken care of?"

"Yea," She sighed leaning against the brick of the building. "He's giving me a week to make up the assignments with a five point deduction from each. But at least it's better than a zero on everything."

Ike nodded agreeably.

"I can help you out with them if you'd like."

"Nah," She eyed him softly. "You have other things to worry about. And it's all easy assignments anyway. Did you come up with anymore ideas about your brother?"

"Not really," Ike sighed allowing himself to slide down the wall into a sitting position. "I know for a fact he won't talk to me about it. And he won't listen to me about any of my input. After all, he's a true Broflovski, and he certainly takes more after mom than dad." Karen couldn't help but giggle. Ike was certainly right about his brother, and definitely had him pegged.

"So then corner him. Like your mom does when she goes on her bitching escapades." Karen hummed softly. "I mean...Kidney failure isn't as lethal as it was years ago, right? Maybe he just needs to be told that it's not as uncommon as he thinks. Or maybe he's insecure about it?"

"No," Ike shook his head. He could still recall his brother's first close call. It took a few months of therapy before he could get the memory of his brother pale and clammy and talking in gibberish out of his head. And certainly took everything he had to withhold from calling CPS on his mother when she first tried to use more...natural methods. "I think he's more angry about it than anything. And I think he's wary about trusting whatever medical advice mom is gonna try and offer."

"Guess I can't really blame him there. But either way, isn't it still his decision what he does?" Karen slid down to sit beside him. "Just relax," She slithered hand out to grip his comfortingly. "I'm sure everything will work itself out ya know?"

Ike looked at Karen with a flush. The butterflies in his stomach went wild when he looked into her blue eyes.

"You right," He sighed fidgeting with the bundle of papers in his hands. "Either way," His jerked up as a familiar horn screeched form the parking lot. Kyle waved his arm wildly from the driver's seat. "Sorry, I gotta go. Text me, or message me if you need any help okay?" He smiled warmly before jumping up at rushing to the car.

"Did you have a good day?" Kyle quipped quickly. His cheeks and nose were flushed, and Ike couldn't tell if it was because something happened or if it was Jack Frost nipping at him.

"Yea. It was pretty good." It wasn't a lie. Between the papers, and having a private lunch with Karen McCormick, and easy school work, the day had certainly been good. "What about you? How was Stan's practice?" Ike Broflovski did not miss anything about his brother. Especially, when said brother was sick. So when the older boy flushed lightly even blending into the wind whipped redness of his cheeks, Ike noticed it. A small knowing smirk fell onto his lips and he leaned back into the seat. "That good huh?"

"Ike," Kyle ground out turning even more red. "You should really just shut up sometimes."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Whoa, what? Two chapters in one day? Well, if the first chapter didn't make up for it, perhaps a double upload can make up for my absence! ^-^ And as per usual, reviews are always welcome!**

Chapter 5

"Gerald," Sheila had called him at work with desperation in her voice. While it certainly wasn't unusual for his overzealous wife to be hysterical, something about her voice made him drop his pen and stop all work. "When you get home tonight, we need to have a talk as a family." His heart thudded in his chest as his wife continued. It froze and started again when she explained that she had to take their son to the doctor and that results had come back.

"It'll be okay Sheila," He replied warmly in an attempt to calm his stressed wife. It was a routine that he had recited on a daily schedule. "We can figure it all out when we're at home." He placed his phone on the receiver bidding her farewell. With tense shoulders, he straightened the papers on his desk and called his assistant into the room. "I have to leave early today,Bernadette." He stated standing from his chair with a hefty sigh. "Family emergency. Please leave my messages in my box."

"Of course," A busty blonde hummed happily making a note on her board. "Is everything okay at home?" Of course she knew they weren't. She knew Gerald Broflovski loved his wife, but she didn't fulfill all of his daily needs. Often times she had found the man exasperated at the redhead's escapades. But it never ceased to amaze her how the man would stay with the rowdy woman for his kids.

"It will be," He smiled warmly at her as he packed his brief case and eased his way toward her. He should have been a confident man; he was, after all, one of the best lawyer's in Colorado. He had been to all of the infamous cases that took place in South Park, Denver, and Boulder. The man wasn't afraid to travel, and was even less afraid to take on cases that any other prosecutor wouldn't. "I'll call in tomorrow if I can make it in. But don't expect me."

"Yes sir, of course. I expect none the less. Just let me know if everything is okay." She smiled placing a warm hand on his shoulder, before letting it drop and grasping his hand smoothly. He didn't jerk back, but he didn't respond either. Her chest rose and sank all in the same breath. Worry filled and lined his eyes. Slowly, he pulled his hand away and made his way out to his beat up car.

The drive home for Gerald was painful, and long. Even with moving a second office back into his home town, he still found the drive to be his least favorite part of the day. Mostly because it would mean having to face his wife and withholding his secrets from her. He couldn't remember when their marriage began to fall apart, and perhaps it never had. But still, he was finding comfort in his assistant more and more, and it was starting to unnerve him. He hated the idea of Sheila ever finding out, hated the idea of what it would do his family. But still, the urge to see her, and feel her silky blonde hair beneath his hands. It was almost too alluring.

When he pulled up he saw Kyle's car parked in front of the house. Sheila didn't seem to be home just yet, as her car wasn't anywhere in sight. But that could be something as simple as having to run up to the store to get more supplies for dinner. Guilt filled his gut as he stared up at the home he had built, where his family began and grew. Then he wondered how it had all gone so wrong. When did he stop loving Sheila?

"Dad," His oldest son knocked on the window with a confused look. He looked so much like his mother, that it panged Gerald to see him. He had the same red hair, the same green eyes, and the same smile. "You okay? You've been sitting out here for like fifteen minutes. It's kind of creepy actually."

"Ah, sorry," He smiled fidgeting to grab his suit case and roll his window up. "I was just unwinding a bit. It's been a long day, and your mother wanted me home early. Apparently, we need to have a talk as a family." He watched as Kyle rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw. It seemed that Kyle knew what the talk was going to be about, and Gerald could only guess it was about his latest doctor's visit.

"Yeah. Well, sometimes she just needs to mind her own business." Kyle spat annoyed grabbing his father's briefcase. Gerald couldn't agree more with his son, but he knew that his wife had never been good at keeping herself out of other's business.

"I completely understand that kiddo." Gerald smiled softly climbing out of his car. "How was school?"

"It was pretty okay. I watched Stan practice football, and Cartman was his usual self." Kyle sighed tugging at a stray curl. Watching him, Gerald remembered the first time realizing his son wasn't as straight as his mother liked to think. Of course, she should have known when all he wanted for his sixteenth birthday was for Stan to sleep over. Instead she invited most of his class, and that started a whole different kind of party. But then again, Gerald was the one who had found Kyle in a closet making out with one of the other boys, and it was blatantly obvious his son was enjoying it—intoxicated or not.

"That's good. Did you finish all of your make up homework?" He didn't want to nag, but as a parent it was still his job to make sure his children took care of all of their responsibilities.

Kyle nodded, and Gerald patted his back before ascending the stairs to his at home office. He sat behind his desk and pulled open his top drawer. Inside was a photo of his Bernadette, and a bottle of gin. With a heavy sigh, he started his night early.

Dinner was not a fun matter, not a fun matter at all. In fact, for the Broflovski family, it was for once silent, and awkward. There was a lot to be said, and no one wanted to say anything.

"Well," Sheila whispered quietly as she placed her fork and knife down onto her plate. Her meal was gone, and her belly as full as her head. "I think it's time we were all made aware of some upcoming bumps in the road." She patted her mouth with a napkin, and pursed her lips in annoyance as she watched the blot of bright red lipstick rub off. The tension filled the room, and nearly exploded from the wall.

"Bumps in the road? Really mom?" Kyle snapped first throwing himself back against the chair and crossing his arms. "It's nothing like that. And I'm fairly sure everyone here already knows." He glowered over at Ike who refused to look away, or feel guilty about finding the papers in his mother's purse.

"Now Kyle," Gerald sighed softly taking a sip from his glass of milk. "Let your mother speak, please." Sheila smiled warmly at her husband and grabbed his hand softly. It wasn't like when Bernadette held it though. The fingers were too thick, and the skin was rough and sinewy from years of over working.

"As everyone knows, Kyle had a doctor's appointment recently where they found that his kidney's weren't working properly." She stared at the center piece of the table. "I think we all deserve to know that there is a possibility of kidney failure, and that he's already exhibited signs. We should prepare or an upcoming surgery if it comes to it."

Kyle's jaw clenched and un-clenched with his annoyance. It was burning him that his mother couldn't keep her damned mouth shut about his news. He didn't want anyone knowing, and now he would have to deal with his father being depressed (more so than usual) and his brother being overly protective and curious.

"I'm going to bed." He growled out shoving himself away from the table. Ike watched him with pursed lips as he stormed towards the stairs and made note of slamming his door.

"Mom, not cool." Ike huffed grabbing his and Kyle's plate and putting them in the dishwasher. "He doesn't want anyone knowing. And you don't even know if it's really renal failure or not. He had to give blood, and the results haven't come back." He turned to follow his brother.

Sheila Broflovski sighed heavily as the table went silent once more.

"I don't get it," She whispered to herself as her hand slipped from her husband's. "I just thought we all deserved to be on the same page so we can start figuring out a schedule." Tears welled in her eyes as thoughts of when she initially had to take her son to dialysis when he was younger began to overwhelm her. "He's been through it before. We've been through it before. I know the signs, and it's all matching him."

"He just doesn't want to believe he's sick again is all, Sheila. But it'll be okay," He reached over and squeezed his wife's forearm. It used to be a sign of comfort, and he hoped she still felt it. But all he could focus on was the way that his fingers sunk into the fatty white flesh.

Upstairs Kyle was seething in his room. His phone was blowing up with text messages from his friends, but he certainly didn't want to explain the situation to them, and they would probably try to get him to come out and party at the lake. The last thing he needed was to get drunk on a school night.

"Kyle?" Ike knocked softly, not waiting for permission to enter. "You okay?" He leaned on the door frame, and knew full well that his brother was not okay. "Just forget about it."

"How can I forget about it?" Kyle growled before collapsing onto his bed and burrying his face into his hands. "What if she's right? What if it is renal failure again? I mean first off, what are the freaking chances? And second...second there's no one else who has a kidney that matches mine within a hundred miles." His arms trembled under the weight of his head and nearly gave out when Ike sat next to him and draped an arm over his shoulder.

"You're just scared right now," Ike whispered softly squeezing his older brother close to him. "But you'll see. Maybe they'll get started on a search instantly. Maybe some guy in New York died and his kidney matches with yours."

Kyle leaned into his baby brother and sighed resting his eyes. No matter how young Ike was, he always seemed so mature for his age. Not once had he seen his brother give in to his emotions like he and his mother had so many times in the past. Ike was certainly becoming Kyle's grounding stone, at least, where Stan wasn't involved.

Karen McCormick was lost in thought as she stared at the text book splayed out before her. Thoughts of what Ike was going through, and what he could possibly do to help his brother filled her head. She felt awful knowing that she probably wouldn't be able to do much, especially since she actually quite liked Ike. But really, when it came to something like this, there wasn't much in the way of things she could do. After all, it wasn't like she was a surgeon, or a match for Kyle. Hell, from what she understood it was a miracle that Stan had been able to trick Cartman into donating a kidney.

So unusually lost, was she, that she hadn't noticed when her older brother knocked dutifully on her door to tell her it was time for bed. But the worried look in her eyes told him that she probably needed to talk first.

"What's wrong?" He questioned gliding across the room. It was the cleanest and nicest room in the house. Her stuffed animals were all in line, and Kenny made sure that the roof didn't leak—often times having to patch the holes himself.

"Huh?" Karen jumped at the voice. "Oh Kenny," She sighed biting at her lip. "Time for bed already?" She questioned closing her books nervously.

"Not until you tell me what's up." He smiled softly sitting on the bed beside her. It creaked heavily under his weight, reminding him heavily that it was probably time for the girl to have a new mattress, if not a whole new bed set.

"I..." Karen sighed heavily and fidgeted with her blanket before facing her brother. "What would you do if you found out someone you really like has a family member that could be really sick?" Kenny furrowed his brows at the rather dark question. Karen had never been a morbid girl, so he instantly recognized that there must be some truth to the question. But, honestly, his reaction would all depend on what the person would be sick with. If it was cancer, well there wasn't really much else Karen could do except to comfort the poor kid. It was basically a death sentence.

"Well..." Kenny hummed thoughtfully. "How sick is this family member?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Chapter six here we go! Finally getting somewhere, but the fact that I've already uploaded half as much in just a few days as I had before I disappeared actually kind of bothers me! I hope I can stay on this roll though! Also, thank you all so much for the favorites, follows, and reviews! It's exciting to see all of it!**

Chapter 6

School the following day was a blessing for Kyle. Breakfast had been a miserable silence, and the car ride with Ike was not much better. Of course, he should have known. Ike had been absorbed in his phone all morning, sending messages back and forth to some girl.

But luckily, lunch was quickly approaching. He would finally be able to enjoy some kind of normalcy since the night before. Not that he would enjoy it too much, because Fatass was already at the table jabbering on with food falling out of his mouth, heavily reminding Kyle of Jabba the Hutt.

"Maybe you should try and chew with your mouth closed, lard ass." The redhead commented as he found his seat across the table from him.

"Aye, shut the hell up you stupid Jew." Cartman snapped, shooting the frenemy a heated glare. If it were up to Eric Cartman, he would have annihilated the Jewish boy long ago. In fact, he had tried hard when he gave the stupid Ginger AIDS and HIV. When he was younger, he had come up with plenty of ways and ideas to get rid of the fag, but as he got older, he found his ability to ignore and deal with the stupid jew grew. It almost made him fun. Almost.

"Well he's right," Kenny retorted with a heavy roll of his bright blue eyes. His mood had been sour ever since he went to bed last night. His parent's had gotten into a heated argument, keeping him up well into the night. On top of that, his mattress springs had kept him awake and uncomfortable. Then when Karen woke him up this morning, well, he was less than clothed if put mildly. And then, the whole way to school she nagged him about one of her friends.

"Jeez, Ken." Stan smirked as he found his seat to Kyle's left side. "Salty much?"

"Someone's gotta kill your cholesterol," Kenny retorted biting into the sloppy joe that the lunch ladies deemed edible. In the blonde's book, so long as it wasn't straight from the garbage can, pretty much anything was edible. "We can't all be as sugary sweet as you are Stanely," He batted his long black eyelashes at his raven haired friend with a mocking smirk plastered over his lips.

"Shut up, fuck boy." Stan grunted in reply glancing towards the line for his girlfriend. Just like it was custom for Stan to sit next to Kyle, and Kyle to Kenny, Wendy always found herself sitting beside Stan—at least she did when they were together. It wasn't exactly uncommon for the couple to break up for a day or two and be back together the following day as if nothing had happened. Kyle quite frankly found it sickening the way that they broke up. His entire romantic life had been based on the ideal foundation of having a long term relationship, and finding the person you were meant to be with right off the back. An idea he had learned in his early teens, when his mother tried to drill abstinence into his hormonal brain.

And for the most part it took. Kyle certainly hadn't found himself dating much of anyone, but that didn't stop his heart from fluttering just slightly when Stan would glance at him. When it initially happened, he pushed it off and tried to convince himself that perhaps it was just because he and Stan had been ridiculously close growing up, and that he was certainly someone he truly did love. Just not in the romantic way. But as he grew older, and the butterflies filled his stomach when Stan would just glance at him, Kyle understood that it was probably more. But he certainly wouldn't ever act on the notion; less he risk a lifetime of memories to get a snapshot of life.

"What is everyone doing after school?" Stan belted excitedly as he draped a possessive arm over Wendy. It was certainly no secret what he had planned. He would probably go to football practice, work up a good sweat and flex for the cheerleaders. Then he would head over to a certain girls room and reconcile a relationship—in all of the best ways.

"Well," Kenny chirped draping his own arm over Kyle's tense shoulders. "We plan on actually going to drama club this afternoon. Because ya know, Kyle needs the extra curricular for a good college app, and well. All the ladies love a man who can act." He winked toy fully at Wendy. It was no secret around the school that Kenny was a flirt; often said to have a few girls at home in a single night. Of course, it was all hearsy. Kenny had too much to risk by bringing girls home, and on top of that, what kind of example would he be setting for Karen?

"Right," Kyle sighed softly. Already this week he had missed three practices, two excused, one not. He couldn't miss another one without it starting to show up on his record—imaginary or not. Although, he would much rather be out at the fields watching Stan practice.

The bell rang quickly ending the conversation before Kyle could come up with an excuse for missing drama.

"C'mon," Kenny snatched his friend's wrist and drug the redhead through the crowd completely abandoning their trays. "You have history, and I'm not letting you be late."

Drama class was actually a lot more fun than Kyle could have predicted. Tweek and Butters had been the one in charge of writing the script for the month, and it turned out to be a blubbering, blundering mess of tongue twisters, and laughter. Definitely nothing that would be performed in front of an audience, but still fun to practice none the less.

"Alright, alright kids!" Mr. Garrison clapped his hands in an attempt to get everyone's attention back on him. Whispers and murmur's still continued, but for the most part, everyone was paying attention. "While Butter's and Tweek's play has been interesting..." He raised an annoyed brow at the two, used to the antics that took place in the classrooms and clubs of South Park. "It's time that we move on to the next group. Which just so happens to be Kyle Broflovski and Re-"

"Me!" Kenny flailed his hand in the air excitedly. "Me! It's gotta be me Mr. Garrison!" The teacher sighed heavily throwing his hands up in an annoyed fervor.

"Sure. Kyle Broflovski and Kenny McCormick. This should be interesting." He turned to go back to his desk and flip through a naughty romance novel to look for inspiration for his next book.

"Sweet dude! What kind of play should we write?" Kenny grinned overly excited. Not just to be working with Kyle, but because it typically meant working at Kyle's house. Which meant a lot of good food for Kenny to gorge out on and left overs for him to take home to Karen. Kosher or not, it was a lot better than whatever it was his mom would try to make them eat at home.

"Uh. I don't really know dude." Kyle shrugged his shoulders. "What do you think we should do?"

Kenny took a moment to pretend to think about it. But honestly, what would be better to make all the girls gush and swoon? "Romance!" He grinned deviously leaning his arm on Kyle's shoulder. "Two victorian playboys rushing about a brand new city playing hero, and making girls swoon and squeal in their path!"

Kyle snorted rolling his eyes heavily. One day, he thought sarcastically, he'd see his brain inside his skull.

"Whatever then dude. Come over tonight, and we'll do some research. Maybe some plot outlining or something." Kyle chuckled as he grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Drama Club hadn't officially been released, but it was kind of obvious that the class was done for the day. Besides, he was starting to feel just a bit run down from everything.

"Sweet, what time?" Kenny chirped as he followed the redhead. His plan was certainly starting to fall into place. Get into Kyle's house, stay for dinner, get left overs for him and Karen.

"Probably like five or six. Five if you want dinner. But I'm going home and catching a nap really quick." Kyle forced himself to yawn to make it look like he really was exhausted. When in reality, all he wanted was a little bit of alone time with just his room and himself. Ike would probably keep himself locked up in his own room doing whatever homework was left.

"Great!" Kenny buzzed excitedly rubbing his hands together. "Your mom can seriously cook. I'll be there for dinner!" He grinned patting Kyle on the back lightly. Besides, waiting until five certainly gave him time to get home and Karen started on her homework. It would also give him time to make sure his mom and dad wouldn't get into some kind of crazy fight that would make him take Karen with him. Although, it probably wasn't a bad idea anyway. And if he did bring her, well... She could have the food properly warmed and cooked, instead of having it reheated in a shitty microwave that was probably going to over cook it anyway. "Actually," He said thoughtfully and gnawed at his lip lightly. "Can Karen come too? I'm sure it wouldn't hurt for her to have a proper meal ya know? And I'm pretty sure her and Ike are in some of the same classes."

"Sure," Kyle said without a second thought. It would probably keep Ike entertained leaving Kenny and Kyle alone to study properly and hopefully get some real work done. "I'll let mom know to expect two extra people." He smiled at his friend. "Just don't forget. Five." He chuckled waving as he rushed off towards his locker. A few books to grab, and then he'd head out to his car and go pick up Ike.

Silence. Kyle sighed heavily as he flopped across his head. It was a blissfully silent afternoon. No mother screeching about him having to decide on treatment options, and no dad trying to mediate the argument. Ike had quickly gone to his own room to take care of himself. Kyle couldn't recall ever seeing his brother turn that red after he told him Karen would be coming over to do homework and eat dinner. The usually composed preteen found himself floundering and flustered over the whole situation. Kyle found it cute in an endearing way. Stan used to get the same way whenever he brought up Wendy, but he grew out of the habit when they finally hit high school.

Slowly, he felt himself dozing off into a relaxed sleep.

Until his mother slammed the front door alerting everyone in South Park of her arrival home.

"Ike? Bubblah?" She called up the stairs, effectively letting Kyle know that he would not be getting a nap before Kenny came over. "Are you boys home?"

"Yes ma," Kyle called from his bed. It was still too comfortable for him to get up and greet his mother properly.

"Okay!" She hummed, the creaking of the stairs alerting Kyle to her approach. A soft groan escaped his lips just as she opened his door. "You feeling okay?" Worry was already evident in her voice.

"I'm fine ma, just tired." He smiled weakly at her. He didn't want to be angry or annoyed at her. After all, she was just overly worried about him. He suspected long ago that any mother probably would be when it came to their child. But still, he wished she would lay off just a bit. Perhaps, that was his stubborn streak though. And he certainly knew who he got that from.

"Hm," She pursed her lips anxiously. "Alright...but if you start to feel-"

"I know ma." Kyle snapped sitting up from his bed. "I get it. You're worried. But we haven't even gotten the results yet. They're still working on the tests. For now, can we just act like this is normal? Like it might not be life or death for me? I promise if something changes, or if I'm more than just a little tired, I will let you know."

"Tests?" A new voice entered into the conversation. Just over his mother's shoulder, he could see the worried face of Kenny fucking McCormick.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Guys, you all have been so awesome! And Super shout out to GreenHate24 and MaiMayMei. I just hope I can keep up the pace, and keep the level and quality of writing up to par! But seriously, thank you for the reviews! They really do inspire me 3**

Chapter 7

"Academic tests." Kyle blurted out shooting his mother a glare. "Just a few academic tests for some college placement recommendations." He ignored the pointed look and pursed lips of his mother. Now was not the time to start a fight, because the good lord knew that when she started to run her mouth there was certainly no stopping her. And now was most definitely not the time for her to start running her mouth in a famous Boflovski tantrum.

"Bubblah," His mother warned him softly. She always hated the idea of them lying; even going so far as to pour a heavy spice on their tongue when they were younger and were caught. Nothing really in comparison to some of the things she has done before, but then again, that is exactly what Kyle was hoping to avoid.

"Not. Now. Ma." Kyle shot back just as frustrated and annoyed.

Kenny fidgeted at the tension of the room, and let Karen drag him off down the hall before things could really get bad. He hadn't even made it into Ike's room (he wondered how Karen knew EXACTLY where it was. He would have to ask her about it later.) before the screaming match began. The Broflovski family had a set of pipes. He was sure people all the way over in Denver could hear the frustrated argument.

"What's going on?" Ike sighed as Karen walked in. Kenny quickly chastised her about knocking, knowing full well what he did ninety percent of the time at Ike's age. Hell, he still had the callouses and forearm to prove it.

"Your mom is annoyed with your brother. They're arguing over some test." Karen hummed before making herself comfortable on a small bean bag chair in the corner of Ike's room. It was a nice homey room, actually, set up a lot like Kyle's. It was kind of cute how much Ike really looked up to his brother.

"Test?" Ike looked up from a book he was reading, brows furrowed in confusion. "Oh," His eyes widened a bit in realization. "Did he mention any results by chance?"

"No. He said they were academic." Karen snorted softly reaching into her backpack for a packet of papers that Kenny assumed was her homework. Ike scoffed from his post on his bed. He closed the laptop lid heavily and sighed looking up at Kenny.

"Mind filling me in?" Kenny crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. He would wait until the screaming died down, and honestly, he could probably figure out what tests they were talking about had he been willing to eavesdrop and pay attention. However, he learned from experience that eavesdropping on a Kyle Broflovski argument is a very good way to have the redhead knock his socks off.

"Kyle might be in renal failure again." Ike mumbled under his breath. Kenny watched the flash of panicked worry flicker through his blue eyes. He could never hide it when his older brother was sick, especially when it was serious. He'd keep his mouth shut, yes, but his facial features had always been far too easy to read.

"Renal failure?" Kenny wasn't sure what exactly it entailed, but it certainly seemed to be bad. He was never good with illnesses and medical terms. Frankly, that was because something would happen and he would die before any real illness could take place. But he'd seen a few documentaries in school on certain viruses, terminal diseases, and, of course, the mental health of a body. But Mr. Garrison had yet to make them watch something involving renals, and their failure.

"Kidney failure," Karen pitched in with a heavy sigh. Ike and Kyle had undoubtly started to rub off on her. "His kidney's are shutting down."

Kenny could feel the color drain from his face as he glanced towards Kyle's room. He definitely didn't seem sick. Tired, yea, fore sure. And he HAD missed two days of school, but he still didn't seem sick.

"He doesn't seem sick..." Shock was still setting in. He found himself feeling for the black swirling chair that Kyle had given Ike after he bought himself a new one with better back support.

"Most people in the beginning stages don't," A new voice interrupted. Kyle glared at every person that was currently sitting in Ike's room. "Mom thinks we're just finding out about it. I think she's going nuts."

"She has legitimate reason for concern." Ike cut in brushing his black hair out of his eyes. "You've gone through it before, and it's common in diabetics."

"Common or not. I'm just tired Ike, not sick. Just because I sneeze doesn't mean I've got the flu."

"It doesn't mean you don't either." Ike snapped back glaring up at the red head. It always amazed Kenny the amount of love and animosity the family could share in just a matter of moments. His household was completely different. His family's love came in the form of aggression, teasing, and soft whispers and apologies drowned in alcohol.

"Whatever," Kyle huffed looking to Kenny and nodded his head back to his room.

Kenny hadn't even fully entered the room before Kyle shoved him in and slammed the door behind him. He turned the orange jacketed boy around and pushed him into a sitting position on the bed. Kenny couldn't deny the sudden excitement by the Kyle's quick and rough movements. But he downed the feeling when he saw the anxiety and fury in his green eyes.

"You can't tell anyone." Kyle whispered sternly. "I don't want anyone knowing until I find out something about it for sure." He looked tired, and thinner than usual, but Kenny attributed that to the recent stress that was his mother.

"I promise, dude. But why didn't you tell me?" Kenny sighed softly holding his arms open for a hug. Kyle scoffed shoving the arms away and flopped on his bed instead causing Kenny to pout unceremoniously.

"Kenny," Kyle grunted annoyed curling up into himself. "You weren't even supposed to know." Kenny sighed softly watching as Kyle slowly started to doze off. It wasn't like him to fall asleep during a homework session, but Kenny certainly wasn't about to be the one to wake him up. So instead, he did something that was very un-Kenny like. He grabbed Kyle's laptop, typed in the password, and began to write the script that they were supposed to write together. At least, this way, he could help relieve Kyle of some kind of responsibility, and still let him get some sleep. Besides, the longer he stayed over, the more likely he would be to get some of the awesome food he could smell cooking downstairs.

Gerald watched the clock on his desk. He would be expected home in precisely an hour and fifteen minutes. He made it into the small house at the same time every night. It was the same routine, the same pendulum swinging back and forth, but never really touching the edge of bars. The only thing keeping him relatively sane was the busty blonde that was currently sauntering up to his desk.

All of the lights had been turned off, save for the one lamp on his desk. She had even made sure the blinds in the office were pointed up, so absolutely no one could see into them. Coincidentally, She also made sure that Gerald noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, and very little to the imagination under neath her skirt.

Thoughts of Kyle when he was a child, and of Ike's ranting and raving about stupid cartoon shows, and even a few of Sheila floated through his mind. But still, that didn't stop him from meeting her lips, or allowing his hands to roam to places they never should have touched. No, that didn't stop Gerald Broflovski at all, because let's face it, his wife was never really the woman he wanted. Hell, he recalls only marrying her because he had foolishly gotten her pregnant over a spring vacation. At first, he hadn't thought to marry her, but when he found out it was undoubtedly his child, well of course he would step up and be the man she needed him to be. God, he shuddered as the soft thighs found their way into his lap. What should Sheila think?

His thought process quickly turned to mush as Bernadette's mouth easily found his soft spot just below his ear. A spot Sheila eventually deemed unsanitary. But this was not Sheila. In a heavy breathed realization Gerald finally found himself feeling alive.

Sheila tapped her foot impatiently at the table. Gerald was late. Unusually late, and he had yet to call and either let him know he was late, or say he was on his way.

"Ma, just call him." Kyle grunted rubbing his puffy sleepy eyes. Irritation still filtered into his voice, but he was noticeably more charged than he had been earlier. He even had some color to his lips and face.

"I'll give him five more minutes," Sheila stated stubbornly. She crossed her chubby arms across her chest, and allowed herself to sink back into the chair.

"He probably just caught up in a case and didn't realize the time." Ike insisted from his spot across the table. "He does that sometimes you know?"

"I know." Sheila sighed heavily before leaning forward a bit more properly. Just as she was getting ready to get up and heads towards the phone, Gerald stumbled into the home looking just as pleased with himself as he did disheveled. The rotund woman felt her brows furrow in confusion as she glanced her husband over. It was becoming more and more often that her husband was coming home looking worst for wear. At first it was just small instances; his shirt untucked one night, a forgotten belt the next, and maybe even a tie undone on the ride home. "You look exhausted. Come eat," She found herself humming in happiness.

Gerald tried to keep the guilt down that pounded through his chest as he watched the look on his wife's face. She knew something was up, but had enough faith in him to assume it was just a long and rough day at the office. When truthfully, it had been anything but. All of his cases at the moment were easy enough to prosecute; a stolen vehicle, an obvious homicide, an old man with dementia that attacked a woman using a phone booth. Sure, added all up they could be overwhelming, but the load that they currently rested on Gerald's shoulder was next to nothing in comparison to some of the cases he's taken over the years.

"Sorry," He found himself forcing out a yawn as he glanced over all of the individuals at the table. "Let me go change out of these clothes, and then we can eat." He smiled at his children and found the guilt was beginning to boil over. How could he handle coming home to the faces that he and Sheila had created and adopted together? Especially when he wondered how they would look if they were his and Bernadette's instead. Without waiting for everyone's permission, he turned on his heel and stormed towards the stairs. Tears were already starting to escape the ducts of his eyes by the time he made it up to his room.

"Well," Sheila smiled back to the group of hungry teenagers. "I guess you guys can go ahead and start then!" She made her way back to the table in order to hand out plates of food and drinks for everyone.

Kenny was the first to lift his spoon and dig into the dish; a delicious, heaping, warm bowl of Cholent. Kenny had only had it a few times when Kyle brought left overs for lunch and decided instead that he wanted whatever it was that the cafeteria was currently serving. From his memory, it was pretty damn good, and the fresh bowl didn't let him down. Onion, gravy, potatoes, turmeric. It all cascaded over his tongue quickly and easily sending him into nirvana.

"This is absolutely amazing, Mrs. Broflovski," Kenny moaned heavily. It didn't escape him that Kyle turned as red as his hair when the noise was released. A smirk began to form on his lips, but a second spoonful of the stew found its way into his mouth instead.

"Kenny, shut up." Karen groaned into her hands embarrassed. "You're such an aphrodisiac."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wow, sorry guys. This was a really hard chapter to write for some reason? I feel like it was boring, and definitely repetitive, and for that I am sorry. But still, I guess it did kind of carry on the plot? Hopefully I can get my mind together before getting the next chapter up.**

Chapter 8

The weekend passed, and Kenny hadn't heard from Kyle about getting together in order to work on the project some more. He was pretty sure the redhead was probably starting his own version, and taking over just like he had when it came to all of the other projects Kenny had ever worked with him on. Even his text messages had gone unread; a sign which quickly told him that his friend probably wasn't feeling too good.

And so when Monday rolled around, Kenny made it a mission to skip the last two hours of school and drag Stan all the way to the Broflovski household with a days worth of homework.

"Dude," Stan sighed pinching the bridge of his nose as he held his seat belt across his chest. Kenny had basically stormed into his algebra class, grabbed his arm, and stomped out with him. "What the hell is up?"

Now, as he barreled down the central high way system to his best friends house, his heart found its way into his throat. The ravenette hated riding with his blonde friend. If not because he would swerve all over the road when there was no one around, then because it always felt like when the car finally reached the speed limit, it trembled and shuttered like it was about to fall apart.

"I'm just worried about Kyle is all. He's been missing a lot of school lately." Kenny hummed fidgeting with his radio. All that seemed to make it through was small blurbs of word and static. "Haven't you noticed?" Of course, Kenny knew why Kyle was missing, but he had managed to keep his promise to Kyle and hadn't told anyone. However, he had a feeling that it was all about to change. He could just imagine Kyle laying on his bed and foaming at the mouth while he seized because of the toxins running through his blood.

"He's just been sick." Stan shrugged it off flinching as Kenny made yet another sharp turn. He hadn't realized how many turns he had to make to get to the Broflovski household until today. Then again, he never took them at uncertain speeds, and he was fairly positive his car wasn't going to fall apart at any second.

"Key word Stanley boy, Sick." Kenny hummed as he put the crumbling truck into neutral in order to coast down a hill without wasting gas.

"He's always sick Kenny. It's probably a cold, or he's got something going on with his diabetes again." Stan covered his eyes in a shriek when they ran a stop sign without even bothering to stop. Car horns blared in his ears, and the ringing followed him all the way down to the City Wok, before they made yet another turn. "Dude seriously, who the fuck gave you your drivers license?!"

"Who said I have one?" Kenny snorted happily. The panic on Stan's face was too much for the blonde to keep a straight face. "Relax," He chortled out as he hit the brakes and put the truck back into drive. "I have a real one I promise. And besides, he's your friend. Aren't you worried?"

"Is it bad if I say not really?" Stan sighed heavily deciding it would be better if he just closed his eyes instead of watching the road. Slowly, his heart and stomach found themselves back where they belong, but quickly found themselves flying back up when the engine roared and he found himself leaning further into the seat. "Jesus christ dude, slow down." His voice pitched and sunk as managed to grasp onto the hand bar up at the top of the truck. How it had stayed in tact, he never knew.

"Relax," Kenny sighed rolling his eyes. Kyle's house was only about a mile away, he was positive Stan could hold on. Kyle, on the other had, he wasn't so sure. He wouldn't lie to himself. After finding out that Kyle possibly faced another kidney failure, Kenny found himself worried and doing actual research on the damned disease. "You'll live."

Stan certainly wasn't so sure he would. He clenched his eyes tighter and tried to think of happy thoughts. Thoughts like the other night when he went over to Wendy's house and things had quickly gotten heated. But the fire that began to burn in his loins was almost as unwelcome as the surprise trip.

"Here."

The stop of the truck was a fantastic feeling for Stan. He quickly grasped the handle and threw the door open. Kenny hadn't even unbuckled by the time Stan found himself on the ground glaring up at his blonde friend. "I am never riding with you again."

"Sure you will," Kenny smirked knowingly. "Your car is still back at school." He chimed happily waving his finger at the ravenette.

Sheila had stayed home that day. Initially, she wanted her husband to be there too, but work had been demanding of him that week. She spent her day by the phone waiting impatiently for it to ring. The results for her baby's test would finally be revealed, and she was anxious about them.

That morning he hadn't felt well, and was running a mild fever. Not uncommon for him when his sinuses were bugging him. But that wasn't what worried her. No, it was the vomiting and the excessive sleeping, he was tired when he woke up and hadn't even done much. She also noted a mild swelling in his ankles, nothing major at first. It was a common attribute of people with diabetes. But when all three of them were combined together with his history...Well, it was a damn good thing Sheila had already had him put on a donor list.

The door bell rang, and shook her from the intense line of thought that flittered through her mind.

"Hey Mrs. Broflovski," Stan's voice was a welcome sound as it rebound throughout the room. Sheila set aside a small knitting project that she hadn't gotten very far on and smiled at the two boys.

"Hello boys," She stood and swiped as invisible dust making her way instantly to the kitchen. "Kyle is upstairs. I'll make you boys some snacks." Sheila didn't know that she would come to welcome these small instances of normalcy.

"Awesome Mrs. B!" Stan cheered being steered towards the familiar stairs. "Jesus Kenny, lay off huh? I know where Kyle's room is." Kenny rolled his eyes heavily before pushing him off to the side lightly and racing up the stairs inhaling Kyle's familiar scent.

The room was dark and cool; Kyle had pulled the curtains together at some point. Unusual, since Kyle really liked the natural brightness and warmth the sun brought into his room. It was then Kenny realized the anxiety building up in his chest, and he actually kind of hated it.

"Kyle," He found himself whispering as he lowered himself onto the bed. It was a lot more comfortable than what he had waiting on him at home; and it was even warmer with the heated body lying next to his hip. "Hey," He brushed a red tipped hand against the warm forehead. Red curls fell over in soft tufts, and Kenny had to resist the urge to just brush his fingers through the fluff. Kyle groaned softly pulled back from the cold hand scrunching his nose.

"Ma, lemme lone." He curled further into himself tugging his blanketed hands up to his face to prevent any further forehead fondling.

"Sorry," Kenny chuckled squeezing his fingers under the blanket and onto the back of Kyle's neck.

The redhead sat up with a loud screech as he turned to shove Kenny's fingers off.

"You asshole!" He sneered jerking his blanket up around his shoulders. "The hell was that for?" His voice pitched, ending his aggression in a horrible squeak. Kenny couldn't help the boisterous laugh that bubbled from his throat.

"Sorry," He snickered covering his mouth trying to keep his entertainment in. "I tried to get your attention, but you thought I was your mom."

"Ugh," Kyle groaned laying back down on the bed, making sure to tug the blanket all the way over his head. "Go home Kenny. I'm not feeling well."

"That's why he dragged me all the way over here," Stan hummed from the doorway. He threw an awkward glance towards Kenny, having seen the whole exchange between the two, before making his way over to Kyle's bed. "What's gotcha feeling sick?" The raven haired teen wondered as he sat at the foot of the bed.

Kyle instantly jerked his knees up closer to his chest. He didn't want anyone bugging him, and made sure to make it as obvious in his posture as he could. In fact, really, all he wanted was to go back to sleep.

Downstairs the phone rang, screaming and calling to Sheila. Kyle felt his shoulders tense as his usually boisterous mother mumbled and whispered. On a good day, when Sheila WAS being quiet, Kyle could still hear her through the floor; the wonderful thing about thin floorboards. But when she was this quiet, there was something very much wrong. He didn't even hear her hang up the phone.

What he did hear though, was the thump of her feet hitting the stairs. Something wasn't good. Not with as slow as she was moving.

"Boys?" She knocked softly before entering. Her face was pale but her cheeks pink. She looked at her son and smiled softly before inhaling heavily. "I need to talk with Kyle for a moment."

Kenny nodded understanding the situation. He grasped Stan's arm and dragged him out to the hallway ignoring the confused complaint.

"Dude," He sighed looking at Stan. "Just give them a moment."

Stan frowned crossing his arms. He hated being left out, and by the glances Kenny was throwing at the door, he was certainly missing out on something. And whatever that something was, it was important.

"What's going on here?" Stan stared Kenny down. The blonde pursed his lips and shook his head. He could handle Stan's persistence.

"Nothing that you need to worry about," Kenny sighed waiting for the door to open. "He'll tell you when it's time."

"Is that he's gay?" Stan blurted thoughtfully, wanting so bad to be in on the loop. Kenny's ears perked a bit at the mention, but he his poker face held tight. "Because I already figured that out. Or is it because he has a crush on me? That's what Wendy is always saying."

"No," Kenny snorted rolling his eyes heavily. "Pretty sure everyone but him knows that already. And that's a whole different problem that he doesn't necessarily need at the moment."

Sheila opened the door a crack and stepped out. Her eyes were slightly puffy, but there was very little sign of her crying. Kenny didn't waste a second before he slipped into the door only to be greeted by a very disappointed Kyle. His face was still losing an annoyed flush, and his brows were furrowed aggressively.

"Wasn't good?" Kenny asked quietly sitting beside his friend. He ignored the flutter in chest when he draped his arm over the thin set of shoulders.

"He wants me to start dialysis next week..." Kyle mumbled shoving his head into Kenny's shoulder.

"Dialysis?" Stan questioned finding a seat on the other side of his super best friend. "Why the dialysis? Is it your diabetes?" He was never very proficient in his anatomy and physiology class, or any health class he had taken throughout his educational years thus far.

"Kinda," Kyle muttered, his voice tickling Kenny slightly. The blonde simply tightened his grip. "My kidney's are failing again."

All the color drained from Stan's face as it took a moment to sink in.

"Well," He stuttered a bit thoughtfully. "At least your mom is going to take you to a real doctor this time, and not try shoving hemp tampons at you kinda like last time."

Kyle's face blanched slightly, before a crooked grin broke out. And before he knew it, he found himself laughing along with his two friends. Maybe it would suck, it would probably make him sick. But hell, at least he had people to help him still feel normal when all was said and done for.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: There we go. Definitely feel like we're getting somewhere now ^-^ Hopefully I can develop KylexKenny like I wanted to in the next chapter, but right now I feel like their relationship is kinda frozen? Ah Jeez sorry guys!**

Chapter 9

Kyle found himself fidgeting anxiously at his first session. The whiteness of the walls, and the nurses whispering behind the counter. It certainly didn't help that he was probably the youngest patient in the office at that very moment.

A man hacked into his palm to his left, reminding the redhead that he wasn't too far from an oncology office either. Kyle swears he seems some blood splatter across the man's hand. He shudders lightly and forces himself to look forward at spec on the white tiles. A nurse walks past him humming to herself as the man beside him starts to wheeze heavily. It's an uncomfortable noise in a much more uncomfortable silence.

"Kyle Broflovski?" A small voice calls from a corner in the room. After taking a second to spot the voice, Kyle follows the petite brunette nurse into the backroom. Lining the wall were small curtained rooms that consisted of a dialysis machine, heart rate monitor, and a not so comfortable looking chair. Most of the curtains were pulled tightly shut, seemingly amplifying the sound of paper rustling under butts, and magazines turning pages. Heart rate monitors beeped and resounded in his head, and his own heart thrummed in his own chest. Anxiety was starting to set in. "Take a seat right here sweety," The brunette, Janet (by her name tag), drew a curtain opening the space for Kyle. "I'll have the doctor right in, okay?"

Kyle simply nodded, his throat too dry to really speak. The nurse smiled softly, trying her best to give him the comfort he visibly needed.

"It won't be too bad," She hummed softly making her way out of the curtain.

Kyle glanced around the room before his eyes settled on the pastel olive green chair. It was ugly, and looked extremely uncomfortable, but he had a feeling that he and the chair would be come great acquaintances. Giving in, he settled into the chair and played mind numbing games on his phone.

It was another twenty minutes before the doctor appeared from the other side of the curtain. He was a handsome black haired man with a growing five o'clock shadow.

"Afternoon," He muttered flipping through the file in his hands. "So, you're Kyle Broflovski, correct?" Kyle nodded anxiously. The doctor nodded quickly slapping a blood pressure cup onto his bicep. "Good. I'm Dr. ?"

"Type 1," Kyle nodded softly. "I've had it since I was a kid."

"I saw you've had a kidney transplant before." Dr. Bronwin nodded towards the paperwork. "How did that go? Did it stick?"

"Oddly enough," Kyle nodded in response.

"Good. Hopefully this helps, so we don't have to try and find you another one. But we've got you on the list just in case." The doctor proceeded to write down Kyle's blood pressure, and leaned back in the chair. "Do you know what dialysis is?" Kyle nodded quietly. He had done plenty of research once his mother had set up the appointment. He wanted to know exactly what he was getting into. "Good. Then I'm just going go get everything, and we'll see about getting you hooked up."

Kenny had been quiet all day; to the chagrin of one obese brunette. With the redhead out of the picture, Cartman didn't have anyone to aggravate. Not even Butters seemed his usual overly perky self. Instead, he found the disgustingly attractive blonde moping around with the poor boy.

"What the hell is wrong with you guys today?" Cartman snapped as he sat himself down on the bottom step. School had been let out early because of some South Park issue. World only knew what the real reason was. "You've been piss asses all day." He grunted out as he reached into his backpack. He had filled out nicely since elementary, and allowed his brunette hair to grow out. But his personality certainly hadn't changed.

"Just thinking," Kenny sighed heavily waving his hand in a blow off motion. The gesture certainly did not help to better his fouled mood—not that Cartman was ever in a decent mood.

"Thinking? Since when? You never think Kenny. Sometimes I even wonder if you actually have a brain in that head poor boy." Cartman snorted. The brunette was surprised when a thin hand slapped into the back of his head. He found himself even more flabbergasted when he learned that the hand belonged to the stuttering blonde sitting beside him. "Butters! What the fuck?!" He squeaked sending his hand to the mild sting in the back of his head.

"W-why don't you just sh-shut up for once, Cartman." He huffed crossing his arms. Cartman's mouth flopped open and closed like a fish gaping for water.

"What the fuck is happening today..." He muttered to himself finally going quiet.

The only thing that broke the silence among the trio was Kenny's phone. It binged every few seconds, which quickly irritated the larger brunette.

"I'll see you later Butters," Kenny mumbled standing up. His hands fell into his pockets as he waved at Cartman.

"What the hell was that even about?" Cartman questioned Butters annoyed. The blonde glared up at him pursing his lips together.

"Absolutely, n-none of your business Cartman." He turned and stormed off down the steps leaving the brunette confused and flustered. The world was surely starting to turn backwards.

Gerald found himself in a trap. It was his son's first day of hemodialysis, and he desperately wanted to get home. But with the way Bernadette was gyrating her hips, the poor man found it hard to push the blonde away. It was no secret that her moves were exciting, but his mind kept wandering elsewhere, and he found it troublesome.

"What's wrong?" Bernadette pouted heavily crossing her arms over her bared chest. "You certainly aren't into it." She was mildly offended, but knew too that the man had to put his family first sometimes. It was the way he worked. When their relationship first started he made her note that his sons would always come first. Fortunate for her, they were old enough that they didn't need him very much and she was often able to pull his mind from their dark hole.

"Sorry," He whispered trying to get back into the moment. "It's Kyle's first day of dialysis. I'm just worried because I haven't heard anything." His lips kissed along her collar bone and up to her neck. Goosebumps filled her skin as she started her ministrations once more.

"So take it as a good sign," She hummed closing her eyes. "Sheila certainly would have called you had something bad happened."

Gerald knew she was right. Sheila never hesitated when it came to their children. Hell, when Gerald first opened an office in Denver, she called everyday to make sure all was well and that he was adjusting comfortably. When, he wondered cautiously, had those calls stopped? When had he decided that she wasn't worth talking to about work? When had his love for the woman he had married long ago really stopped?

Guilt was starting to fill his stomach; vibrating violently down into his hip. Violently into his hip as a matter of fact. He grabbed Bernadette's waist and squeezed twice, a signal they both agreed that would mean stop. The blonde pouted giving him an annoyed look, but he was unperturbed. A bright white name flashed across the screen: Baby Doll. It was Sheila.

"Hello?" He answered cautiously.

"Everything went fine." She chirped happily into her phone. "He's a little nauseated and light headed, but they gave him some medicine for it. We'll be heading home in just a few minutes."

"That's great," Gerald beamed a bit. He was certainly glad to hear that Kyle had taken the dialysis pretty well. It was an encouraging sign. Maybe, if they could get and keep everything under control with the treatment, he wouldn't have to hunt down people for a new kidney for his son. "We should celebrate tonight."

"I don't know if he'll really be up to it," She hummed. "But I can see if I can't change his mind. Oh, that's a nurse coming! I've gotta go. I love you Gerald!"

She sounded so happy, and so sure that everything in her life was finally okay, that it broke Gerald's heart. He literally felt a piece of it fall into the pit of his stomach where it still thumped and thudded.

"I love you too Sheila." He didn't feel repulsed this time. He didn't have bile form in the back of his throat when he imagined her smiling. He didn't dread going home to see her. At least, until Bernadette made him very much aware of the situation he was currently in. Thin hands slinked into his own and hit the red end button.

"Everything went well?" She purred leaning forward as she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck.

"Yea," Gerald mumbled into her chest.

Silence was one of the last things that Kyle found himself wanting when he finally made it up the stairs and curled into his corner of the bed. His back was pressed against his wall he fidgeted with his phone trying to get music to play.

It dinged as Kenny's name tittered across the screen with his message. A small smile found it's way to the redhead's lips. He hadn't even heard from Stan that day, and it honestly hadn't been surprising. After all, his super best friend was always busy; sports, Wendy, school, his parents. But he found himself enjoying the constant connection with the orange parkaed blonde.

 _Did u make it home ok?- Ken_

Of course he had made it home okay. His mother had driven him there, and made it a note to pick him up right on time. Which had turned out to be a better idea than him taking a bus home.

 _Fine. Just laying down now. Not feeling crazy hot._

He watched his phone intently for a second or two before deciding to rest his eyes. He was just beginning to doze off and succumb to a heavier sleep when the phone vibrated under his chin again.

 _Good. Mind if I come over? Or no? -Ken_

A light flutter began in the pit of his stomach. He found his cheeks flushing in mild excitement as just the prospect of him coming over. It was ridiculous. This was Kenny McCormick he was thinking about; the local playboy. Good looking local playboy. Kyle inhaled deeply closing his eyes for a moment to get a grip on himself. It was getting to a ridiculous point in his life where he couldn't control his emotions. Perhaps it was just because there wasn't that many gays in South Park. But that couldn't be true. He'd seen it all. If he just made gay look cool, he knew everyone would turn in an instant; like in elementary school.

 _Nah, come on over. Can you bring my homework from today?_

There. Now he had a reason to invite the blonde over. School and medication was supposed to be priority—but his mother never said anything about a second priority. Everyone had a relationship at some point or other right? Kyle tugged his blanket up over his head curling more into himself.

 _Sweet. Be there in ten. -Ken_

Kyle smiled to himself, not even bothering to reply. It was nice having Kenny around; especially when Stan was really busy with Wendy, or when football season was in full swing—like now. In a sense, it was a comfort to know that he wasn't ever really alone. And even though he may not show it directly to Kenny, he still felt that the blonde knew he appreciated him.

It was exactly ten minutes later when Kenny knocked on Kyle's door. He waited a moment for a reply, but when none came, he made his entry into the room anyway. He found Kyle curled into a tight ball pushed against the wall of his room. His eyes were loaded down with bags, and his face was pale. A loose red curl found its way falling down his forehead.

Slowly and quietly, as he had become such an expert, he made his way across Kyle's room and eased into his bed. He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he found himself staring at the redhead more and more often. And found himself wanting to plant a wet kiss on those soft pink lips whenever he was alone with him—awake or not. The urge was strong, but Kenny knew better than to make a pass at the sleeping boy. It would be fruitless, and annoying when Kyle had no memory of it.

Instead, he was able to find one small comfort. He shrugged off his parka tossing it somewhere on the floor and tugged Kyle closer to him. The sleeping mass quickly snuggled into the warmth, and Kenny bathed in the comfort and position. It was definitely a benefit learning how to comfort a sleeping little sister.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Enjoy some fluff and mild plot forward movement! I actually quite enjoyed writing the Kenny bit in this chapter. Either way, I hope you guys enjoy!**

Chapter 10

Tuesday morning came around faster than Kenny wanted to admit. It would be yet another day without Kyle at school, and Stan would have his head up Wendy's ass, and Cartman would ride on him for being poor. All around, Kenny was trying to prepare himself for another shit day, but his heart simply wasn't into it. The morning before school proved to be difficult; Karen was coughing and definitely coming down with something. But low and behold, he couldn't afford to take her to the doctor because his dad had spent the families money on booze and cigarettes. So his poor sister was stuck at home alone, trying to live off expired advil and some kind of soup Kenny found in the freezer.

When he pulled into the parking lot, he was fairly tempted to just forgo school and head either home or over to Kyle's—since the redhead wouldn't be at school either. When he left last night, Kyle hadn't woken up and was starting a mild fever. He wouldn't be surprised if he was coming down with something too.

His day turned further to shit when he stepped out of his car and felt tiniest sprinkle of rain. He had to inhale deeply through his nostrils and out before continuing into the cement square building. The hallway was too busy for comfort, the students too loud for his ears, and the thick arm that draped itself over his shoulder belonged to a raven haired boy that he didn't particularly want to see that morning.

"Craig..." Kenny growled pinching the bridge of his nose. He rarely showed such a foul temper, but today felt like a ticking timer was going off in his head, and if someone just so much as bumped into him wrong, he was going to blow.

"Someone is in a seriously shit mood, huh?" Craig smirked, his slightly crooked teeth gleaming under the fluorescent lights of the school.

"And some asshole is happier than usual. What do you want?" Kenny's patience was quickly dissipating. Not that he had much to begin with.

"Shit, who jizzed in your cheerios?" Craig snorted tugging his shoulder back. "Still can't get your little Jew friend into bed?"

Kenny felt his jaw tighten, and his fist clasp into itself. Breathe, he tried to think, before turning and just shoving Craig away from him. He turned on his heel and quickly stormed out of the school. Today was definitely not a day to be here, or around anyone for that matter. He jumped down the school steps storming out to his old beat up truck. Anywhere but the school. He jammed his key into the door to unlock it, and climbed in punching his steering wheel. There was no reason for him to be so upset; nothing out of the norm had happened. He tried to think logically about his rage, and was still unable to find anything.

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. Growling, he ripped it free from its confines and glared at the screen only momentarily. Kyle was bored and home alone. He had invited him over, apologizing for asking him to skip school. Suddenly, Kenny was tired. He lay his head back against the headrest, and sighed heavily.

Kenny glanced back at the message, typing a quick reply before turning his truck on and leaving. If anything, it would calm him down just a little to be with the redhead—Kyle always understood when silence was the best comfort.

Gerald sat in his dark office. His fingers laced between each other, resting under his chin. The headache came with the immense guilt that was settling into his stomach quickly. He had a decision to make, and he knew exactly which one he was going to make. But the consequences were going to be astronomical. He could lose everything that made him Gerald Broflovski, and with everything that had happened in his home life, he was more worried about something else.

How would Kyle handle it? What would Ike do? How bad would he be breaking Sheila?

But he didn't want to hide it anymore. He didn't love Bernadette; not even in the slightest. He didn't mean the whispers and the whimpers thrown about freely in the excitement that always seemed to find him crumpling under her. He loved his family; no matter how empty Sheila left him feeling.

But had she meant to leave him like that?

No. He shook his head and rubbed his temples. No, Sheila was as innocent to the situation as his boys were. She had never meant to hurt him; had never really hurt him. As far as he was concerned, with all of the thought he had put into the situation, the ones who were at fault were himself and Bernadette. He had let her lead him into her trap. But he had never really fought her about it at all either.

The lawyer was jerked out of his thought by a light knock on his door. He looked up expecting Bernadette to sashay in. Instead, he found his wife there dressed down for a change. Her hair, instead of being up in the typical beehive that she was known for, was finally let down and framed her soft round face. Instead of her typical blue suite, she was wearing a comfortable t-shirt and some jeans he hadn't seen her in for years. His heart thudded in his chest as he stared at the gorgeous redheaded mother of his children.

No, he didn't love Bernadette at all. He loved Sheila. He recalled all the repulsion he felt when she would hold his hand and when she would cuddle into him at night. That was never truly geared towards his wife. The repulsion was towards himself. He was disgusted with himself for letting himself get out of control. For allowing himself to fall into another woman like she was a comfort.

"Hey," Sheila chirped falling into the chair in front of his desk. "I figured I could take you out for a surprise lunch. But Bernadette said you already ate." She smiled softly leaning onto her palm. The sudden need to shove his lips onto his wife's was overwhelming.

"No," He shook his head smiling and standing from his desk. He would make time for this woman. He would try and make it right with her. "Let's go. We haven't had a date in a really long time." Gerald watched a light blush cross over his wife's cheeks.

"Dressed like this? Are you sure?" His heart melted a bit at the worry.

"Of course." He smiled offering his arm to her. She took it quietly and shyly; a side of his wife he thought he would never see again. He recalled the first time he had seen Sheila Broflovski shy away from anything. It was on their wedding night though, when he caught his first glimpse. She was feeling a bit awkward, because she had been raised a party girl from New Jersey. The physical contact she had with any other man was just sex—not love making. And in that sense, Sheila was a virgin. She had never felt such a soft delicate touch, and the passion had never been so full. Her cheeks stayed flushed, her body twitched so easily.

"Happy to see me?" Sheila giggled slyly breaking Gerald from his thoughts. His cheeks flushed at his new found predicament. So instead of going out for lunch, Gerald decided he would feast on something a little closer to home.

Kenny flopped onto Kyle's bed. He hadn't even bothered knocking on the door, deciding to just waltz in instead—not that he even had the patience to knock today. Kyle didn't flinch, and didn't even bother looking up from his book when the blonde draped a nonchalant arm across his waist.

Butterlfies bloomed instantly in Kyle's stomach, quickly knotting it into a painfully jumbled mess. He still felt slightly nauseated from his treatment the day before, and found Kenny's presence assuring and comforting. He didn't bother with the arm, instead forcing himself to focus more on his book. Kenny placed his head onto Kyle's stomach and pushed the book down.

"No," He huffed slightly. "You invited me over. Now pay attention to me."

"Bad day?" Kyle questioned placing his marker in the book and tossing it to the side. "You seem kind of grumpy."

Kenny rolled his eyes with a snort. Kyle had never been more right in his life. However, grumpy felt like he was putting it mildly.

"You could say that. I woke up in a bad mood, and now Karen is sick and I can't get her some good medicine." Kenny groaned into Kyle's middle. He felt his shoulders tense up and relax all in the span of a few seconds.

"Why don't you borrow some of ours then?" Kyle patted the blonde's head softly before running his fingers through the thick silk hair. He was thoroughly surprised by the softness of it between his fingers. For some reason, he always imagined Kenny's hair as being slightly greasy and course. It was anything but.

"I couldn't ask that of you guys dude. I already bum food off you guys." Kenny pushed his head into the petting feeling more of muscles leak into a relaxed state.

"Oh whatever," Kyle huffed rolling his eyes. "You know we don't mind. Now c'mon get up. We're going over to your house to take care of your baby sister."

"What about Ike? He'd be upset if he came home and you weren't here." Kenny chimed in looking at the clock. School wasn't even remotely close to being out, but the teachers knew that Ike would start sneaking home on breaks. He was smart enough to explain the situation to them about his brother.

"Then we go pick him up. Lunch is about to start anyway. He could use a real meal and not some chips and soda." Kyle nodded standing up and grabbing Kenny's parka off the floor. He slipped it on over his head without asking; allowing the orange fabric to swallow him. "Jeez Kenny, this thing is huge."

"No, you're just really skinny." Kenny snorted tugging the hood as he passed Kyle. The tingling in his stomach had massively intensified when he looked back and saw Kyle pouting from under the hood. "But we can fix that too if you're paying."

"Whatever, poor boy." Kyle snapped following Kenny out onto the slushy sidewalk. "One day, I want to live somewhere that isn't always covered in snow." Kyle hated the feeling of the slush crunching under his feet. He hated more, the cold water that seeped through his shoes. One day, he thought, just one day I would like to be able to wear flip flops around town and not have to worry about frost bite on my toes.

"After you good sir," Kenny smirked holding the door to his old beat up truck open. "It's a lot warmer inside, and I've got a pair of extra socks in the glove compartment."

"That sounds kind of disgusting," Kyle grimaced swiping crumbles off the old leather seats before climbing into the cab. "I'll just put my socks on the dash."

"And you call me disgusting." Kenny grimaced playfully before slamming the door and rushing around the front of the truck. His day was certainly starting to pick up. As long as it kept on this upward track, it still had the possibility of being a hell of a day.

"My socks are very much clean thank you. I change them every day. Sometimes twice...like I probably will today." Kyle pouted his bottom lip out. Kenny stared at it intently, before turning his attention to the ignition and starting the truck with a rumble.

"That is just a little too much information about your own personal life." Kenny chuckled teasingly.

"Oh please!" Kyle chortled shoving at Kenny's shoulder as the blonde backed out of the drive and onto the street. "I know so much more about your personal life than I have ever wanted to!"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm not dead, just been crazy busy! ^^ Like, a promotion at work, and moving into my own apartment. It's been crazy! I'm so sorry this took so long to get out. I had started it forever ago, but life got hectic! I hope you guys can forgive me!**

 **Chapter 11**

Ike was thoroughly surprised when he watched Kenny's truck pull up into the parking lot of the school. Karen hadn't showed up, and he figured she was sick. Not exactly something was uncommon in the McCormick residence. He'd seen the home often enough to know that the inside was probably festering in mold and filth. He imagined that her parent's never cleaned of their own free will, and Kenny probably didn't help out much either.

"Skipping school?" Ike hummed climbing into the third seat of the truck; slightly pushing his brother into Kenny. The blonde didn't miss the contact by a beat. Heat rushed to his cheeks, and he fought to keep it from view.

"Someone had to keep your brother company." Kenny snipped pulling away from the curb. Ike was fun to talk with on a philosophical level; a level that he was sure Kyle had no idea Kenny could talk. After all, how could he remain the mysterious parka boy if he let all his secrets out in the open?

"What about your sister?" Ike quizzed digging through his backpack and pulling out a rather hefty manilla folder. "She missed school."

"I know," Kenny pursed his lips. "We're bringing her medicine right now. Kyle said you usually spend the lunch with him, so I figured I'd kill a couple of birds with one stone." Kenny hummed. It didn't go unnoticed that during the whole exchange Kyle had been awfully quiet. Usually, the redhead was a little chatter box around Ike—asking if he was doing okay in school, was anyone bugging him, what was day like. Typical Broflovski fashion. It was rather endeering to see the two brother's get along so well; to see Kyle be over protective of someone just as over protective of him.

"Good. She should probably stay at our house or something until she gets better." Ike buzzed softly glancing out of the window happily. "Besides, Kyle could totally use a friend to keep him busy during the day." Ike nudged Kyle in the ribs softly, causing the older redhead to roll his eyes toyfully.

"I'm perfectly content studying, and doing my best to keep up in my subjects as it is. And you would have to run that by mom first anyway." Kyle smirked defiantly into the window.

"Right," Ike scoffed crossing his arms pouting as he leaned further into the seat, pushing Kyle closer towards Kenny—who was very happy that Ike was very much a growing boy, and that Kyle was particular about his knees being touched.

"Alright, c'mon now guys," The blonde chuckled pulling out of the parking lot. "Besides, I don't have enough room to bring all of us back to your house." He reminded Ike as if he was admonishing him slightly. "And your brother doesn't need any extra stress."

"He **never** needs extra stress. But...Hello? South Park?" Ike waved his hands out in front of him, motioning to the town with exasperation.

"What? You mean this is South Park!?" Kyle gasped throwing his hand to his chest. "I never would have guessed!" A laugh burst from his thin pink lips as Ike glared at his older counter part. And Kyle knew, that no matter how much Ike would hate to admit it, he adored his older brother probably more than any other brother ever deserved to be adored. Definitely more than he did, the blonde was sure.

"Kyle," Ike hummed sweetly leaning towards his brother and batting his eyelashes. "Shut up." He deadpanned jerking away a second later, leaving Kyle gaping lightly at the bipolar pre-teen playfully. A soft pout formed on his lips, sending Kenny into a fantasy land that was bordering publically dangerous.

"Home sweet home!" Kenny chirped pulling into his driveway. He reached between Kyle's leg, very carefully mind you, to reach the bag that rested on the floor full of medications from the Broflovski Bathroom Pharmacy.

Ike was the first one to exit the semi-solid vehicle. He didn't knock, or bother waiting before flinging open the front door to the house that was barely still on it's hinges.

Kyle had never gotten used to the inside of the McCormick household. In his childhood he had really done his best to avoid it all costs—in fact most of the kids in South Park did their best to avoid certain homes and neighborhoods. Hell, the redhead could even go so far as to call some of the areas dangerous. After all, no matter how small the town, there was always drugs, drug dealers, and gangs. Throw in Stan's dad and Kyle's mom, and Kyle could only imagine the disaster that could possibly follow.

"Plan on going inside at some point? Believe it or not, it is warmer inside." Kenny chuckled throwing an arm over Kyle's shoulders. The close proximity caused his heart to throb in his chest. It was both a welcomed and annoying feeling. He had always been rather trained in his show of emotions. He couldn't let his parents see too much, and he couldn't let Karen know too much about how it hurt him to see her in their situation. And yet, when the redhead was close? He could hardly keep the blush from his cheeks, but thank goodness for the never ending winter of South Park.

"Huh?" Kyle jolted a bit as if he was in thought. "Oh right," He squared his shoudlers, stepping foot into the not so rotted house. Initially, he had expected his foot to fall through the carpet and the ply wood that rested below—losing said limb to some dark monster that hid in Kenny's basement.

Kyle snorted allowing a smirk to befall his lips as he watched Kyle cautiously climb the stairs. Little known to most residents of South Park, Kenny was hella good with tools. He was the only reason that the household hadn't fallen apart just yet.

Gerald was all grins when he walked into his office the following day. The night before had been spent in the throws of ectasy. His wife had used moves he didn't even know she had learned just to please him, and the orgasm that came of it was blinding. When was the last time he had felt himself giddy, and daydreaming of the beautiful woman that had given him the world?

The unfortunate answer to that, as it had been the day before, was quite a while. His lips pursed together as he thought of how he would have to decide what to do. He could come clean to Sheila, and risk losing her. Or he could cut Bernadette off, and pretend it never happened. But that was fair to neither woman—one had loved him, and one had shown him that sometimes lust was just as violent and hot as the devil himself. A bile of guilt settled in the pit of his stomach as he thought his situation over. Yet in the end, he felt as if no one was going to win.

Kenny's room was much warmer than either boy had antipated, as the blonde had forgotten to turn off his small heater. But Kyle couldn't find it in himself to complain as he flopped across the creaky bed, and shoved his feet in front of said heater.

"My brother has a huge crush on your sister," The red head quipped curiously as he stared at the ceiling. Kenny hadn't even been allowed to enter his sister's room once Ike had entered. When he had brought up the excuse of bringing Karen medication, Ike simply reached his hand out and snatched the bag.

"No way? You mean...I didn't know you could state the obvious." Kenny snarked waving his hand in the air as he flopped beside the redhead. Kyle took the jab with stride, simply brushing it off as he rolled onto his side to glance at the blonde.

Kenny's blue eyes had always startled Kyle. He just didn't understand how someone could end up with such a pure cerulean blue. Growing up, it had been his favorite color to use in the crayon block. He would drag it across the paper, scribbling nonsense, only to watch the color bleed from the tool in order to stain the paper. He had never really noti"ced how much the crayon had matched the eyes glancing him over, before settling on his lips. The redhead didn't miss the motion, and the butterflies that began to flitter within his stomach. It wasn't exactly an uncomfortable feeling, but it was a new one; particularly one that he had only ever associated with Stan.

"Of course I can. That's why I'm trying to learn the stuff that isn't so obvious," Kyle snorted rolling his eyes, letting them remain closed just in case Kenny could see some of the apprehension in his own windows to the soul. "Advanced placement? Remember?"

"You can't be advanced in everything!" Kenny chimmed throwing his arms behind his head to use as a pillow. He had one around his room somewhere, but it would be rude to use it when Kyle wasn't even using one. Besides, the chances that it was actually clean enough to use, was pretty low. And that was even by Kenny's own standards—ones he was pretty sure were vert subpar to the stringent male next to him.

"No, but more than average at least," Kyle sighed draping his forearm over his eyes. It gave Kenny a moment to look at him, and get a real idea of what he was going through. Lines of exhaustion radiated on his face, and Kenny couldn't decide if it was a symptom of his disease, or if it was just pure exhaustion because of the disease. His pallour was pale, with a few rough, red patches of dry skin.

"You should take a nap man," Kenny blurted before he could really stop himself. A small heat radiated up to his cheeks as he mentally chastised himself. "I mean, you look pretty damned tired ya know? Are you even getting any sleep?"

"Yes, mother." Kyle grunted glowering at Kenny from underneath the green sweater that kept him warm. "But honestly? No," He let a sigh escape from between his lips. "I just can't get my mind to shut off most of the times."

The part of Kyle's lips caught the blonde's attention. He nodded along to whatever Kyle was saying rather distractedly. However, his mind couldn't concentrate on digest what he was saying. All his body could do, was force him to lean forward. Without thought, he leaned over the redhead, his arms straddling either side of his head. A movement which caused Kyle to move his arm curiously. For a sparkling moment, green eyes met blue, and before either boy could really consider the consequences of what they were doing, lips clashed together in an intense, clumsy kiss.

Initially, Kyle returned the massage with his own movements, but Kenny could feel the moment when it registered just what was happening. Thin hands shoved at his chest, and Kyle leapt up faster than he had probably moved in the past few months.

"Shit," He whispered covering his mouth with his hand. Shock was written all over his face as he stared at the concerned blue eyes. "I...I have to go."

"Wait!" Kenny didn't even have time to get up from the bed before Kyle was practically out of his front door.

"Kenny?" Karen's voice cracked from her room as she peeked her feverish head out of the door. He turned back, rushing over to her. He pressed his wrist to her forehead, inhaling deeply before deciding that he needed to attend to her problems before his own.

"Sorry," He smiled softly ushering her back into her room. "Kyle just forgot something he had to do. Want to ride with Ike and me to drop him off back at school?"

"No," Ike interrupted biting his lip. "I mean...uh...I'll walk. Or I'll get Kyle to drop me off? Besides, he shouldn't be out walking alone in this kind of weather anyway. What if something happens?" Ike mumbled softly as mild panic crept into his tone. He eased between Kenny and the doorway before darting out of the house sheepishly.

"What really happened?" Karen's voice was just as congested as her head. Heaving a sigh, Kenny simply shook his head tucking her into her bed, and laying another blanket on top.

"I think I just did something really really stupid."


	12. Chapter 12

Kyle couldn't top the panic that seemed to blossom in his chest. With each crunchy step he took, the cold seemed to seep into his skin, but did nothing to calm the monster that was threatening to send tears cascading down his cheeks. He hadn't meant to reject Kenny; hell, he didn't even know if he wanted to reject Kenny. It was just so soon, and sudden. He hadn't been prepared for it at all.

And the worst part?

It had been his first kiss—the same first kiss he had fantasized for years sharing with one Stanley Marsh instead of a certain blonde. And as offended as he thought he should be, the butterflies that flittered through his stomach whenever he thought of his lips on his own was telling him the opposite. Of course, he had liked it. He had kissed back slightly after all; had enjoyed the slightly rough texture of Kenny's chapped lips against his own.

The redhead, in his panicy state of mind, had forgotten that he had been chewing on his thumb. At least until one of his teeth had broken the skin. With a slight curse he pulled back from the lightly bleeding digit to look at the damage. It wasn't aweful, but he should still probably clean it to ward off any infections that his body couldn't necessarily handle.

"Kyle?" A small voice broke through his thoughts. "You okay?" Ike rubbed his eyes groggily as he stepped into his brother's room. He knew, after all, that Kyle hadn't really rested properly since the Kenny incident—not that he knew what that incident had been. So in his estimate, it had been nearly twenty hours since Kyle had closed his eyes and let himself drift off.

"Hm?" Kyle turned his head so quickly that he nearly tripped with the force—an act so ungrateful that it answered all the questions that Ike could have possibly asked.

"Sit on the bed," Ike sighed going down the hall to the bathroom. "I'll get a bandaid for your finger."

Kyle simply nodded, allowing himself to fall back on his bed. His thoughts still surrounded the events of yesterday afternoon. How the hell was he going to face the blonde at school tomorrow? After all, in all of his scenarios Kenny ended up super offended because Kyle did shove him away. He probably would never want to talk to him again, or he would try to avoid him. But Kyle could play sick as well; could use his lack of sleep as an excuse for getting worst. Sheila would probably demand that she take him to the doctor though, and that was a place he was doing his best to avoid.

Ike came back to Kyle sitting on his bed and staring straight ahead, lost in his own meandering thoughts. It was rather impressive to him how he could focus so hard on one thing, but when it came to something simple, his mind seemed to wander off in a thousand different directions—too zealous for the outcome.

"Let me see your hand," Ike reached out grabbing, what he thought, was just skin and bones. He flinched lightly glancing down at the pale hand. When the hell had Kyle lost so much weight? The more he looked at the limb, the more he felt like he was looking at a fleshed skeleton, and not his brother. "You did a pretty good job," He sighed wiping the cut down with alcohol, before applying the bandaid. "Now." He glanced up as Kyle tugged his hand back.

"You need to get to bed," Kyle hummed lightly rubbing the back of his neck. "You've got school in the morning."

"So do you," Ike pursed his lips tightly. "You've missed the past couple of days. You need to get back into the routine. So I'm not going back to sleep, until you actually go to sleep."

Kyle sighed brushing a hand through his hair staring at his younger brother. The determination that resided in his blue eyes was that of his mother's. With a heavy sigh, Kyle nodded, and climbed into his bed allowing his body to relax for the first time in far too long. His muscles eased, and stretched out in relief. It felt nice, almost as if he was floating and not laying in his bed.

"Now...see?" Ike yawned crawling in beside him. "Sleep is good." He mumbled making himself comfortable, before dozing off. He didn't even get to see the odler Broflovski's eyes flutter shut, into a sleep that would last more than just the following few hours.

Kenny paced in front of his locker the following morning. School had been hell, up to the lunch period. No Kyle, and Cartman had decided that since he couldn't bust the redhead's nuts, he would go after Kenny and Butters—which poor Butter's took in stride. Kenny, however, was clenching his fists to stop himself from getting expelled, because he was **this** close to knocking the fatass' lights out.

"Ken?" A familiar, fantastically feminine voice rang through his ears. "You needed to talk?" Bebe leaned against the locker across from him. Her blue eyes were contorted with a concern, and for a moment Kenny felt his heart flutter for her again. Then the complications of their relationship came back to the forefront of his mind, and he put a stop to that resurfacing pretty quick.

"Oh god yes," Kenny sighed rubbing his face with his hands. He could confide in Bebe, and knew that she would keep his secrets, just like he had and would continue to keep hers. "I fucked up." He whispered looking up at her. He could feel the tears budding at the corner of his eyes, and figured they would probably fall soon enough.

"Oh baby," Bebe whispered softly rushing forward to engulf in a calming embrace. "Tell me what happened." She brushed her fingers through his blonde hair lowering them down to the floor so Kenny could tell her everything, without his knees buckling.

"I fucked up, didn't I? I mean...shit...What if it's akward now?" Kenny's voice cracked lightly as he leaned his head back against the wall. It was becoming all too much—his life at home, Karen being sick so often, Kyle literally fighting for his life and minimizing it. Ike, who could probably take better care of Karen than Kenny ever would. If they actually got together, well Kenny would be absolutely estatic to put his relationship with Kyle on the back burner. The poor kiddo's deserved that kind of happiness after the messes their brother's created.

"No," Bebe shook her head thoughtfully as she gripped the thin hand in her own. "I don't think you did. I think you just surprised him is all. I mean, he's been crushing on Stan for forever now. And you know Kyle," She giggled lightly brushing her shoulder against his.

Kenny knew of Bebe's crush on Kyle. Hell, that was part of the reason they had gotten together in the first place. So that they could fantasize together, and pretend that the other was someone they weren't. It was toxic, and neither of them had noticed until it was too late. But it was that toxicity that had brought them closer together; helped them understand the desperation that the other felt.

"But he didn't come to school today. What if it's my fault? Shit, Bebe. He's sick. What if I just made it worst?" Kenny sighed tightening the parka over his head. A comfort, Bebe had noted, that he did when he wa too lost in his thoughts, and they were getting dark.

"Then I say we skip, and go see him. And we bring Stan just for an excuse!" Bebe buzzed typing away on her phone quickly shooting off the message to the redhead's super best friend. Kenny smiled wearily up at her, before nodding and doing his best to get the stains to rub from his cheeks. "It'll be okay baby," Bebe whispered pressing a kiss to his lips softly. "You'll see." She rubbed his shoulders before standing to go to her own locker.

Gerald received the phone call just before his lunch hour. Sheila had been sobbing, and trying to wake Kyle up for a few hours now. But his oldest son never even flinched, never even mumbled like he would typically would have.

And that had set the entire family on edge. They had all done their research, this ammount of drowsiness was in line with the end-stage of renal failure. The stage just before they passed on in their sleep. Panic had settled into his stomach as he rushed to have Bernadette cancel all of his afternoon meetings.

"I have to go," He whispered as he jerked his jacket on over his shoulders. "It's Kyle," Tears budded in the corner of his eyes. Biologically, Kyle was his only child, and though he would never admit it, held a special place in his heart. That didn't mean he loved Ike any less. It was just a bit different knowing that you created the human being. Ike had his own special place; one that, just like Kyle's, his brother had no right entering.

"He's probably just sleeping. You said so yourself, he hasn't been doing that much lately." Bernadette hummed from her spot as she turned in her chair to face her boss. She had made sure to wear an especially skimpy outfit today; a lowcut white blouse, with a short high waisted skirt. It went against Gerald's guidelines for office wear, and he had firmly told her that on lunch she was to go home and change. However, she knew that if she really pushed it, she could get away with it; could become the center of his world for just a short period of time. And that was all she really needed and wanted. She didn't have a man at home to give her the kind of pleasure that she chased.

"I don't want to risk it." Gerald ground between his teeth as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "This isn't something to play with. He's in kidney failure, Bernadette. And the worst part? He's only seventeen. He's still just a kid," He glared at the blonde, the tears threatening to spill out of the corner of his eyes. "He's. Just. A. Kid." His voice cracked at the end, just as he turned and stormed out of the office.

Bernadette heaved a sigh as she glanced down at her desk. If it wasn't for her, she thought butterly to herself, his bussiness would be going under. She didn't **have** to call and cancel all of the appointments. She didn't **have** to tell them that it was because their lawyer's son just might have taken a turn for the worst health wise. But because she wanted him so badly, she did the right thing; that way, when it counted later on, he couldn't be mad at her about it.

Ike was at lunch, munching on the rather untastey vegetable sticks that they cafeteria lady had managed to scrounge up for him, when the office called him to the front. His mother had tears rushing down her face as she signed him out, and ushered him to the car. She hadn't said a word, until they got back to their house.

"He won't wake up," She whispered softly brushing a finger along the tear duct of her eye. "I've tried so many times. So we have to bring him to the hospital, okay?" She paced along the living room, her hands wringing amonst themselves as she verbally noted her plan.

"Ma," Ike hummed lightly going to his mother. He grabbed her upper arms and stopped her, squeezing her ever so gently; hoping to give her some of the confidence that he had. "He took sleeping pills last night, and he hasn't been sleeping. Just let him rest," He smiled as he pulled her into a hug. "He'll wake up in his own time. But I'm gonna go check on him, okay?" Sheila nodded quietly as the words digested in her mind.

By the time was halfway up the stairs, he could hear his mother heave a sigh of relief as she collapsed back onto the couch. A small smile worked its way to his chapped lips, as he eased his way into his brother's room.

Lying on his bed, Kyle was very much dead to world, snoring heavily as he curled into his blanket. It was a wonderful sigh to Ike as he recalled the past sleepless nights that his brother had been up and pacing his room. Or when they were in the middle of a game, and his brother had a hard time concentrating, and messing them both up. Initially, Ike had wanted very much to be angry and upset with him, but the more it happened, the more he found the annoyance replaced with worry.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Starting to get somewhere again! ^^ I'm hoping to probably wrap this up in another eight or nine chapters? I don't know for sure yet! But thank you to everyone who has favorited or reviewed recently! 3 I do really appreciate it! Let me know what you guys think of the chapters! I'm doing my best to keep them interesting. I promise!**

 **Chapter 13**

Kyle awoke to warm arms wrapped around him from behind. Enjoying the warmth, he pushed back into the body mumbling and rubbing his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so well; dreams filled his slumber, and the overly rested feeling that crested in his chest was rare and missed.

All good feelings didn't last though, as the pit that had settled in his stomach at some point between his sleep and slow awakening, ruptured quickly, sending his body in a rush towards the bathroom. Bile and foam filled his mouth and he lurched over the toilet and retched. The body was beside him in seconds, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

"Ma!" Ike called from the bathroom, not missing the wince his brother released. Another heave contorted Kyle's muscles as he released whatever his body deemed unecessary and potentially deadly. The pounding up the stairs resounded inside the bathroom, as the redhead lurched again. Ike felt aweful for his brother. It couldn't be fun, waking up from a long deserved sleep just to rush to the bathroom.

"Oh sweety," Sheila whispered softly brushing her hand along the back of Kyle's neck as she urged Ike aside. "Ike, sweety, he's got some medicine downstairs in the pantry. It's in the pink bottle, could you grab it for me?" Ike nodded, rushing off, following his mother's orders, while she reached under the sink cabinet to grab a wash cloth. "Let it all up honey," She hummed soothingly as she wet the rag in the sink and placed it on the back of her oldest's neck.

The effect was immediate. Kyle calmed down in his dry heaving, and his head lolled forward, resting on the rip of the toilet—not the cleanest place obviously. Sheila scrunched her nose softly, before grabbing another rag to clean her booblah's face.

"C'mon sweety," She placed her arm under his, and urged him to stand on weakened legs. Kyle, being the stubborn boy he was, did his best, but it seemed that they wouldn't be holding him up today.

"Ma," He croaked weakly shaking his head, allowing himself to fall back against the wall. His breaths came in deep, as if he had just run a 5k marathon for the track team. "I just want to sleep here," He nodded to the small bathroom rug, while his hand rubbed up and down his face. It had been a while since he had felt quite this bad, and the jittery shaking of his body certainly wasn't helping.

"No baby," Sheila shook her head frowning. "I'm a go get your brother to help me, okay?" She stood from her kneeling position just as the doorbell rang. "Who could that be?" She mumbled unhappily as she trekked her way down the stairs.

"Kenny!" Ike chirped having beaten his mother to the door. A small, nearly relieved smile made its way to his face as he moved aside to let the blonde in.

"Hey Ike. What're you doin' home?" Kenny questioned before glancing up to see Sheila wringing her hands, and pursing her lips. Something had obviously gone wrong. "What's wrong? What happened to him?" He shoved his jacket off, pushing his sleeves up ready to get to work.

"He can't stand up. He's zapped...Can...Stan can you and Kenny?" Sheila's voice cracked drastically as she asked the boys to do what she couldn't do alone. It wasn't that it would be hard to carry her son—he wasn't heavy by any means. But his long extremeties would make it much more difficult for her than it would for the two gentlemen standing before her.

"Of course," Stan snaps to a confused attention as he and Kenny rushed up the stairs.

Kenny stops Stan with his arm, just before they get to the bathroom.

"Wait a second," He whispered softly glancing back to the worried blue eyes. "Let me go see if he's even awake right now, okay?"

Stan frowned, but conceded, allowing the blonde to slip past him and into the bathroom.

Kenny wasn't too surprised by the pale pallour of Kyle's skin, or the slight shaking of his frame. It was both symptoms, he realized. He would have thought he was dying as well, if he hadn't done his own research. Nausea, vomitting, weakness—all signs of the disease that he had trying to take over his body.

"You okay?" Kenny whispered softly, catching the redhead's attention. He squatted down in front of him, grabbing his chin, so that he could see the haze in the green eyes. "Kyle?" Kenny snapped his fingers just a bit off to the side of Kyle's head.

"Ken," A voice whispered softly. It was broken, and shaky, as if it hadn't been used in forever—since the redhead was a child. "Ken, I don't feel good." Kyle leaned forward, pushing his forehead into the blonde's chest. Kenny simply wrapped his arm around Kyle's shoulder, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

"Alright. I'm gonna go get Stan, okay? We're gonna bring you to your room." Kenny leaned back to make sure the redhead seemed to understand what was going on. Once Kyle made it clear that his body was out of order, and not his brain, Kenny left to get Stan. The ravenette paced the width of the hallway chewing on his nail anxiously. "C'mon," Kenny called quietly. Stan simply nodded, before moving into the room, taking the other side of Kyle.

Bernadette paced the entryway of the law office. Just twenty more minutes and she could lock up, and go home for the day. She would have left earlier, but Gerald was a stickler when it came to making sure everyone worked the hours they got paid for. Considering, he was the one she was doing her damned hardest to impress, she couldn't cut it short like she urged.

But, the extra time did leave her with the silence she needed to think; mostly about what was left for her and Gerald, and how she could get his full attention back on her.

Bernadette had never considered herself a jealous woman—on the contrary, she was very much okay with open relationships. But Gerald was someone different; a person that she wanted to herself and herself only. So when he had confirmed her suspicions early on that there was indeed a Mrs. Broflovski, well the blonde secretary had spent her evening fuming poutily.

Thus, in her focus on the man, her mind began to formulate a plan that would make him completely leave his wife for her. She would become the center of his universe; his star; the only person his world to keep him afloat in all of her sweet and caring glory. She'd just have to wait for the right time to in act it—she just had to wait for their oldest son to finally kick the bucket.

Gerald drug a hand over his face in exhaustion. Working form home always took away from his family time; not that there was currently a lot of that going on. He knew his wife would be downstairs over cooking, and forcing the food on Kenny or Stan; the way she always worked out her stress. It brought a small smile to his lips to think of her bent over the pots and pans as hot steam raised into her face, causing her blush. He groaned heavily, unintentionally pawing himself through the denim of his jeans.

He couldn't allow himself to finish the thought, if he was going to get Mr. Charlotte's case done soon. The poor man had already spent two months in jail for, what Gerald was pretty sure was, a false charge. Apparently the cop showed up out of nowhere at his place of work claiming that he had a warrant for his arrest. And yet, when Gerald had requested proof of said warrant, he never seemed to get it. Which wasn't exactly unusual for dealing with that specific PD—if anything it actually helped further his case.

Heaving a sigh, he leaned forward, glancing down at the file and forcing himself to get back to work. He would have to have **something** to present to his client by tomorrow.

Stan stared at the blonde as they waited on Kyle's back porch, a small cigarette that pressed to Kenny's lips billowed out clouds of smoke.

"So what's really going on with him?" The ravenette questioned, pursing his lips as he glanced up towards his super best friends bedroom window. It wasn't often that he was viewing it from the outside while Kyle was still inside. But with the redhead so out of it, Stanley didn't plan to wake him up.

"It's not my secret to tell. I can just say he's pretty sick." Kenny sighed leaning heavily against one of the porch posts. The corner dug into his back, causing a welcome discomfort to the muscles in his back. "You'll have to ask him about it." His blonde hair bristled lightly with the wind.

"But..." Stan frowned looking at the ground, his brow furrowed in concern. "How come he told you and not me?"

"He didn't tell me," Kenny shook his head rolling his shoulders. "I found out and confronted him. Ike knew, and told Karen. And Karen told me. I wasn't going to let him go through it alone." A light shiver racked his body as the breeze picked up. "I doubt he's going to tell anyone willingly."

"He always has been a pretty hard-headed jackass." Stan chuckled softly shoving the palm of his hands into his eyes, massaging them lightly. "Man...Well...How sick is sick?"

Kenny simply shook his head to glance out at the lawn. A light snowfall had started, accumulating on the ground along the bushes that lined the fencing. If it was anyone else's house it would have been peaceful, something beautiful to look at. But, knowing Kyle was inside fighting the bacteria that seemed to be growing in his system, Kenny couldn't help but hate the scenery.

"I don't know exactly. I just know that he's sick," Kenny heaved, stepping forward. "I'm gonna go check on him. But do me a favor?" Kenny glanced back at his friend, his lip occupying his teeth in worry. "Just...don't ask him about it too much, yeah? It won't be good if he gets too stressed out."

Stan gnawed the inside of his cheek in thought. After a few breaths, he nodded quietly. He would wait to ask his super best friend about all of the details of what has been going on with him. But what if Kyle didn't want to tell him what he was sick with? What would he do then? Kenny was pretty good about keeping a secret—that was how he and Bebe could sneak around with getting caught by anyone. Well, that just wouldn't happen, Stan gave a decisive nod as he stood to follow the blonde inside. Super best friends told each other absolutely every.

Ike fidgeted uncomfortably in his brother's computer chair. He had been taking shifts with everyone in the house to watch the oldest Broflovski toss and turn as he fought to find a comfortable position. The smaller boy was supposed to alert his mother to the slightest sign of his brother getting worst. Yet, when the sheen of sweat covered his brother's brow, he decided it wasn't important. Why worry his mother over a small fever? As long as he didn't get too hot, he wouldn't have to worry about it.

"Ugh," Kyle groaned for the umpteenth time as he turned over and glanced down at his baby brother. "Ike?" His fists rubbed at his eyes lightly, trying their best to rub away whatever sleep crowded the corners.

"Hey," Ike whispered standing from the chair. "How are you feeling?" He wondered, stepping over anxiously to sit beside his brother.


	14. Chapter 14

**So I'm having a bit of a hard time trying to decide what to do about Gerald! :/ Should Sheila or Kyle find out about the affair? Also, should Kenny and Kyle keep their relationship a secret or publicize it? Argh! Haha, sorry! I'll figure it out, but don't be too surprised if it takes a bit longer for the next chapter to come out! Wrapping things up is hard!**

 **Chapter 14**

Kenny waited patiently through the night. He had fought for the position, claiming that Stan needed sleep for football, and Sheila needed her sleep for the following day. Ike was the only one who hadn't fought him on taking the night shift. And that was probably only because he knew that Kenny would insist that he take it. If only because he could keep an eye on Kyle without any mention of the akward kiss that had happened. It was a subject that Kenny had made sure was never brought up anywhere else but his house. He had even taken particularly strong steps to make sure that he didn't even see Kyle for at least twenty four hours so that the redhead had time to digest everything that had happened.

His mind was wondering, and his eyes were just starting to slip close, when a movement from the bed caught his attention. Kyle groaned softly, brushing the back of his hand against his eye.

"Ken?" He whispered groggily, forcing himself to sit up. His mind was still trying to catch up with his body, as he turned and placed his feet on the floor. "What are you doing here? You should be at home," Kyle's voice was cracking, and very much covered in sleep.

Kenny lept to his feet quickly making his way to Kyle's side. His hand found the redhead's arm as he tried to judge just what Kyle was planning on doing.

"It's cool. I'll just go to school from here." The blonde's lips pursed as Kyle finally decided that he wanted to stand a bit—very much to the chagrin of the older male in the room.

"Okay...gotta piss." Kyle grumbled leaning heavily into the blonde. "Sorry," He rubbed his eyes quietly, before using the wall as a stabilizer and making his way out to the hallway.

"Need help?" Kenny questioned cautiously. He knew just how easy Kyle was to embarrass. And that was honestly the last thing on his mind while the redhead was still trying to recover from whatever it was that had happened earlier.

Kyle simply waved him off, taking cautious steps along the hallway. He made sure to keep his movements quiet, so as not to awaken anyone else in the house.

Gerald growled annoyed as his private cell phone rang against his bedside table. All of his clients knew better than to call him at such an odd hour—he had even gone so far as to put it in the agreement they signed when hiring him. That way, if at some point he felt like he needed to end the contract between defendant and lawyer, well, he would have an easy rule for them break under the guise of 'written in the contract'.

With a huff, Sheila rolled over beside him, curling into herself to block out the noise and the light that reflected from the screen. Not wanting to cause his wife anymore upset, Gerald grabbed the phone and rushed to his office; that way he was still abiding by a privacy law if this was something to do with a case.

"What?" He grunted into the phone, not particularly caring who exactly it was. It was four in the morning, and whoever was on the other end of the line had the audacity to call him.

"Hey handsome," A gasping breath broke over the receiver of the other end. Gerald's whole body tensed at the recognition, and the need that was unhindered in the tone. Already, he could feel the tightness begin in his pyjama pants.

"Shit," He whispered collpasing into his plush office chair. "Bernadette..."

Kenny paced around Kyle's room anxiously. His fingers made sure to brush against every open space that he could, because he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be seeing the inside of the room again for a long time—if ever. A heady sigh escaped his lips as he collapsed back into the office chair that he had been previously sleeping in.

"Damnit," He simpered to himself dragging his hand over his face. "God damnit Ken," He leaned forward shoving his face into his hands. He knew the instant that Kyle had run out of the room that he had messed up. The awful look on the redhead's face had been heart breaking.

Kenny liked to think that he was good at taking rejection; that he could handle it in stride. But how was he supposed to deal with the rejection from someone who had been his best friend for years; for as long as he could remember. Fuck, they had gone to high school and elementary school together. They had gone through puberty together, talking about first kisses (or he did at least) together. He couldn't, and wouldn't, be able to handle a life without Kyle.

So lost was Kenny in his thoughts that he hadn't heard Kyle open the door and make his way over to the blonde.

"What's wrong?" Kyle quizzed, flopping down into a cross legged position. His eyes were the most focused Kenny had seen them in a while—probably because he finally caught up on the sleep that he had been deprived of. "You okay Ken?"

"I'm sorry," Kenny whispered glancing at anything that wasn't the redhead in front of him.

"For what?" Kyle fidgeted with his own hand. He knew where this was going, and had been putting a lot of thought into it. The sleep wasn't always so deep that he could just turn off his mind.

"For the other day?" Kenny pursed his lips, sealing his fate enough to look into the green eyes.

"Oh, uh that." Kyle sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "The kiss right? Sorry." He whispered glancing at his own legs. The blush crept up his neck unwelcomed. Kyle was pretty sure he was about as red as his hair at that very moment.

Kenny felt his heart hit his stomach at the perturbed look on his face. The rejection, at this point, was for sure iminent in its onslaught. Kyle would probably get angry and throw him out—a very Kyle Broflovski thing to do. Inhaling deeply, he opened his mouth to respond when Kyle beat him to it.

"That was my first kiss," Kyle whispered rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I wasn't really prepared, sorry."

Kenny coughed on whatever was about to make it out of his mouth. First kiss? No way, the blonde shook his head staring the redhead down. He distinctly remembered someone telling him that Kyle had smacked lips with them in junior high—seventh grade to be exact. It had happened at someone's party one weekend. He couldn't really remember much, he had made sure that he was blitzed all throughout junior high. Family life at the time had been pure hell. His dad couldn't hold down a job, and his mother had gotten into even harder drugs. There was always someone over at the house, and Kenny wasn't entirely sure some of them had absolutely no interest in Karen.

"What?" Kenny croaked staring at the redhead. "What about that kid..."

"Rumor," Kyle waved the phrase off frowning a bit. "I was in seventh grade, and my interest wasn't in girls like it should be. We made a deal." He shrugged softly before pursing his lips in thought. "I can't believe people actually bought it."

"So then..." Kenny worried his lip between his teeth. His anxiety levels were reaching Kyle's own height. How the auburn haired boy could keep himself calm when so many thoughts were surely pulsing through his mind was astounding. Kenny could hardly keep his straight—they were swerving all over his mental highway.

"Then," Kyle leaned forward pushing his lips clumsily against Kenny's.

The angle was akward, and Kyle's lips were definitely chapped from breathing through them while asleep, and the cold that seeped into the room from the window, but it was the best damned kiss Kenny had ever had; thus he kissed back with fervor. Soft lips pushed and moved against each other as Kyle worked his hands and arms around Kenny's neck, doing his best to pull him closer. And as much as he wanted to lean into it, Kenny broke the kiss to stare into the emerald orbs.

"So...uh...trying it out?" There was still a little ball of anxiety that was telling him this wasn't real; that he was going to wake up and this was all going to be a dream.

"No need to try," Kyle fidgeted with his fingers before deciding it would be best to worry Kenny's hair instead. "I know I'm gay." He nodded definitely, releasing his grip and leaning back against the foot of his bed. "I just..."

"Had the gayest crush on Stan?" Kenny couldn't help the grin that worked its way onto his face at Kyle's flush—he looked both angry and embarassed, but mostly like a deer caught in headlights. "Yes, I knew." Kenny chuckled sighing softly, following Kyle's motion, and leaned back in the computer chair. "Everyone knows. You're not exactly discreet about it. Stan's just a literal blockhead."

Kyle opened his mouth to speak, to rebute what Kenny was telling him. But with no come back currently coming to his mind, he simply shut his mouth and glared at the blonde.

Gerald Broflovski hated himself with every fiber of his being. After taking the call, he found himself thinking of the curves and lines of Bernadette's body and what he had just done would be a sin that he planned to carry to his grave. Tears of guilt swelled in the corner of his eyes.

"Jesus Christ," He whispered dropping the phone into his lap. "Jesus, fucking, christ." His voice broke at the end. The blonde that had been on the other end of the line had ruined whatever it was that he wanted with his family. She had come into his life out of the blue looking for a job, and in just three years time had managed to completely derail whatever self esteem he had.

"I'm so sorry," Gerald whispered brokenly as the tears fell down his cheeks. He rested his forehead on his desk, letting the tears drip down into his lap, staining the white pyjama pants that his wife had bought him for christmas at some point. A broken sob ripped through his throat as he continued thinking about what was on the line. "Fuck."

The lawyer hadn't allowed himself to keep up with the hours that passed. He simply closed his eyes, and let himself marinate in his emotions. At some point, Sheila had walked in and placed a blanket over his shoulder, unknowingly causing a whole new onslaught of tears. He was sure Bernadette wouldn't be so gentle in the way that she cared for him.

It wasn't until the smell of freshly cooked eggs wafted up the stairs, that Gerald finally decided to move. With swollen red eyes, he made his way down the stairs to the ever domestic scene of Kyle trying to help his mother cook. The kid had a natural flair for it, but hardly ever did anything because Sheila wouldn't let him.

"Mornin Dad," Ike mumbled from beside him, his fist pushing into his eyes to wipe away the sleep. His pyjamas hung from him loosely.

"Mornin Kiddo," Gerald smiled softly, doing his best not to let his voice crack. With a yawn that seemed bigger than the preteen standing before him, Ike made his way over to the table, taking his place across from Sheila.

"Morning Gerald!" Sheila chirped excitedly from her spot at the stove. An apron was wrapped around her waist, and her hair, instead of being tugged up into its usual beehive, was down and resting on her shoulders in a frizz of red. It framed her face just so, that Gerald simply couldn't help himself. He walked over, and grabbed the woman's cheeks, and kissed her like he hadn't kissed her in a long time. A blush crept along her cheekbones as she giggled under his minstrations.

"Gerald! The child!" She squealed pushing him back lightly, ignoring the over exagerated gagging noises that took place among Ike and his brother. "Kyle, go wake up your friends!" She ushered him out of the room, slipping the eggs from the sizzling pan, before turning her attention back to her husband. "After they go," She leaned up whispering into his ear. "You can do whatever you want." She blushed more as she pulleda way.

"Gross!" Ike whined rushing from the table to follow his brother.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Holy Cow guys! ^^ Ten reviews and 2k views? Wow, thank you to everyone who's read it, and to those who have left their opinions! I greatly appreciate all of it! 3**

 **But unfortunately, everything is kind of starting to come to a conclusion, but I've got a few plots in mind! Hopefully, they can all be as successful as this one! Again, thank you to everyone!**

 **Chapter 15**

With his backpack shouldered, Kyle stared at the entry way of South Park High School. His mother had managed to work out a schedule with his principal so that he only had to take four core classes a day, leaving him able to leave after lunch. It wasn't something Kyle was particularly looking forward to, but he would deal with it later. Besides, it wasn't as if it was throwing off his ability to graduate on time—if he made it that far.

That seemed to be his mother's main concern at the moment. He understood that she really wanted him to live as long as possible, he was her child. What mother wouldn't want that for her child? But he wasn't looking forward to the possibility of years on dialysis. Also, what if a donor couldn't be found for his particular blood type? It had been hard enough finding one the first time around, what was he going to do this time? It wasn't like he could just take Eric's other kidney—no matter how much it would better the world to let the fatass die.

"Kyle!" A voice caught him off guard as orange clad arms wrapped around his waist. Over the weekend, Kenny had become rather clingy, and the redhead found himself rather enjoying it. Typically, the oldest Brovfloski wasn't much of a cuddler. He hated the way couples clung all over each other, kissing each other's necks and giggling at nothing. However, with Kenny, even after just a day or two, he was starting to understand. "Morning! I wasn't expecting to see you here. How are you feeling?"

"Better than I was, thanks." Kyle smiled walking beside the blonde. "Stan at football practice?" Kenny simply nodded humming to himself. His mood had chippered since Kyle had kissed him back, but he wasn't going to force it on the redhead either.

"Good! Wanna go somewhere for lunch? We haven't been to Shitty Walk in a while!" Kenny hummed thoughfully as they meandered down the hall towards Kyle's locker. The general student body made sure to steer clear of the redhead. But his close friends, or people he associated with from elementary all rushed up to see how he was doing.

"Sure," Kyle answered waving to Token who looked slightly releived that Kyle was back to entertain his super best friend. It had always taken a special persont o be able to handle the ravenette. "I'm down for some peppered beef."

"Hey, Kike!" A gutteral voice rebounded down the hall sinking its way into Kyle's ears. The auburn haired male groaned heavily, leaning his head into his locker. Eric Cartman could take a good day and turn it into a giant shit fest in less than thirty seconds. "Where the fuck you been?" He sidled up alone side those whom he called friends.

"Out." Kyle snapped, his patience already wearing thin. He never did have a long tolerance for the fat ass. He was the only person in South Park that could ride his nerves like a wave, and not be phased when he finally explodes.

"Obviously," Cartman rolls his eyes following the other two boys as they made their way down the halls. "I've had to put up with your pussy ass boyfriend the entire time." Kyle shot Kenny a small smirk keeping his eyes forward. "He's annoying when you aren't here Jew. Talk about a tight chain." Cartman growled, but didn't let the motion go unnotice.

"Whatever," Kyle sighed simply, gripping his books tighter to his chest. "I'll see you at lunch, Ken." Kyle nodded towards the blonde, before turning from the two of them and heading off in his own direction. Luckily, his first class was on the east side of the school—as far away from Eric Cartman as the grounds would possibly let him get.

Gerald hummed cuddling closer to his wife. Togther, they basked in the morning afterglow of their earlier physical affair. Her hair curled around her chin, just ever so slightly, causing a beautiful halo effect that caused his heart to thrum within his chest. She sighed curling further into him. In her sleep, she was so peaceful and beautiful; her stress lines didn't show through. Her face didn't pinch in a constant state of worry about what would happen to them after the inevitable.

"I love you," Gerald whispered into the red curls, closing his eyes. His body relaxed into soft blankets and sheets that swaddled them both. Sheila hummed lightly, pushing her face further into his chest.

"I love you too." Sheila smiled lightly.

The morning had been great. Until Sheila's phone rang on her bedside stand.

"Hello?" She hummed lightly, her brows furrowing slightly at the caller I.d. Gerald watched as her brows shot into her hair, and her lip worried itself between her teeth. "Are you sure? I mean...I thought..." She exhaled sharply as tears made their way up to her eyes. "Right...Yes. I'll bring him by tomorrow. Thank you."

A weight dropped in Gerald's stomach as she hit the end button. Tears welled in her eyes as she sat up, allowing the sheet to drop from her form. Whatever she had just been told, it wasn't good.

Kyle sighed pinching the bridge of his nose at lunch. Kenny was running at least ten minutes late, and the redhead was beginning to wonder if perhaps the blonde had forgotten their plans to go out together; something that wasn't exactly like Kenny. He had always been excited to be invited anywhere—especially when it had to do with food. Kyle was sure it had something to do with his home life, but he could never bring himself to be sure and ask.

"Kyle!" A familiar voice boomed down the hall, causing the redhead to look up at three familiar faces—Stan, Wendy, and the ever vivacious blonde. Kenny raced down the hall ahead of the other two, a sheepish grin encompassing his features. "Sorry! They really want to come. You don't mind right?" Kyle sighed toyfully, but smiled shaking his head.

"Of course not, Ken." Kyle chuckled donning his backpack. "As long as it isn't the fatass, I'm good."

"Course not," Kenny snorted, snatching the backpack from his redhead. "He's off somewhere in the cafeteria." The blonde turned back, waving the ravenette's along as they made their way down the hall way.

"You going home after this?" Stan questioned draping his arm around Wendy's shoulder's. The female simply rolled her eyes, and shrugged him off. The quarterback didn't seem to mind, moving his arm to her waist instead. Annoyance radiated off Wendy as she set her jaw, and sucked her teeth.

"We promised to eat with Bebe and Token today," She chided crossing her arms over her chest.

Kyle flinched lightly, his jaw tightening slightly. Stan had questioned him about being sick, but Kyle had still yet to find a way to tell his super best friend that his time was probably limited. And that was being optimistic—especially if the buzzing in his pocket was of any indication. He knew his mother had been trying to contact him, but he couldn't find the will power to answer her. Kyle just wanted a day to pretend that everything was okay; was normal, and that he was going to be fine.

"Sorry," Kyle muttered rubbing the back of his neck. Stan frowned at his girlfriend as he let his arm drop from its place.

"Nah, don't be. She's just pmsing or something," Stan sighed shoving his hands into his own pockets. Wendy growled shoving Stan away. It had been rough for the couple the past few days. Stan hadn't told Wendy about what went down when he had ditched her at school to go to Kyle's. After all, Kenny had said it right. It wasn't his story to tell, or his secret to share.

"Stanley Marsh, I swear I will leave right now!" She ground out between her teeth. Kyle sighed softly rubbing a hand down his face, exasperationa dn exhaustion making its way into his persona.

"Wends, relax." Stan sighed shaking his head. "I already asked Bebe if it was okay. She said it was." Blue eyes wondered over to a matching set. All three boys had been made aware that Bebe knew—she had picked up on it pretty quickly after Kenny went to her. "She gets it."

"She always seems to get it lately," Wendy snapped glaring down the hall. "Whatever, lets just go. I can't be late for class."

"We'll go in seperate vehicles," Stan sighed apologetically to his super best friend. "That way we aren't late getting back." Kyle simply nodded biting his lip.

Kyle hadn't even made it to the parking lot when his mother's car skidded to a halt in front of the school. Sheila Broflovski stepped out of the car and glanced at him. Her cheeks were red and swollen, her hair was mess, and her typically neat work suit was crumpled and unkempt. She had gotten some bad news.

"Bubbie," Her voice whispered, but in Kyle's world it seemed to be expounded; elevated. To Kyle, Sheila was screaming it loud and clear. His latest results weren't where they should be. Dialysis wasn't working. She didn't even have to say anything.

"No," He shook his head, clenching his jawn anxiously. His fingers fidgeted amongst themselves. The redhead almost flinched away with Kenny placed a worried hand on his shoulder. "God damnit," His chin trembled from the force of feelings. "How bad?" Kyle gulped heavily.

"They read a ten. They want to be sure though," Sheila worried her lips as she looked at her son. "I told them we'd be in as soon as possible."

"God damnit!" Kyle yelped wanting nothing more than to punch something; to scream at the world to stop fucking him over. He was pretty sure that by going with Dialysis, and by keeping up with his medications, making sure his blood sugars were kept where they needed to be, hell sometimes even low, that he would be able to make it. "Fuck me!" He growled shoving the heels of his hands into the sockets of his eyes.

"Now bubbie," Sheila tried to reprimand, but Kenny simply shook his head at her, tugging his redhead into a hug.

"Can you give us a sec, Mrs. B?" Kenny questioned quietly. Sheila, against all of her motherly urges, nodded quietly, and loaded herself into the car.

"What's going on?" Stan questioned stepping closer to the duo. Wendy kept her distance, but shifted noticeably closer, as well.

"Bad news," Kenny simply stated shaking his head at the couple. "You two should probably just head back inside. I'm a go with Kyle." Stan nodded quietly glancing at the trembling redhead, before grabbing Wendy's hand and dragging her inside against her protests.

"Stan, what the hell was that?!" Wendy snapped once back inside the school. Stan simply tugged out his phone and sent a message off to someone. "Stanley!" Wendy nearly stamped her foot. She wanted nothing more than to take that stupid phone of his and throw it down the hall. It had been a hard week for her; made even harder after she noticed the worried looks that Bebe kept shooting at her boyfriend. Something was going on, and she wanted in on the loop.

"He's dying," Stan whispered quietly putting his phone away. "He thinks I don't know, so don't go telling him. He wants to keep it a secret." Stan threw himself back into the lockers. It hadn't been on purpose that he found out; Ike had been talking to Karen about it in the living room. Stan had simply wondered down in search of something to drink the night he stayed over to help keep watch.

"What?" Wendy whispered staring at her boyfriend. "You're joking," She shook her head softly, easing her way down with Stanley, until they were both on the floor. "We were just having a conversation, sort of. Hell, he about knocked Cartman's lights out this morning!"

"Shouldn't I be the one in denial?" Stan chuckled sardonically at his girlfriend. "And you know Kyle. He's Sheila's son. Stubborness runs in the family. Hell, if the world was ending, he'd try to keep it a secret."

"What's wrong with him? Is he sick again? Maybe it's just something Cartman did again," Wendy bit her lip, trying to find an answer.

"It's not Cartman," Bebe whispered behind the duo. "It's his kidneys." The blonde slid into place beside her two best friends. "Renal failure to be exact."

Wendy's breath caught in her throat. She stared at her boyfriend in worry, only to met with pure devestation as he tugged his knees to his chest.

"Stan..." She whispered draping an arm over his shoulders and tugging him into a hug. "I'm so, so sorry."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: So this can end one of two ways! Hopefully you guys can help me decide! Should it end in tragedy or have a happy ending? 3 I'm willing to listen to all suggestions! Also, I'm wondering if a few readers would be willing to write me a few plot prompts? I'm in the mood for a few oneshots! ^^**

 **Chapter 16**

It was the same damned white walls; same antiseptic smell that had plagued him no more than a few months back. Kyle's leg bounced as his body tried to work through the anxiety that was knotting itself in his stomach. The doctor was still on his way to the hospital. Both parties had been caught unexpectantly with the results.

"It'll be okay," His mother's hand entertwined with his. "I promise," She forced a smile as she squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture. She hoped that her own anxiety wasn't relayed in the message.

"Right," Kyle simply snapped staring at the god damned white wall. "They should paint this place," He muttered leaning his head back. Kenny, who had at some point draped his arm around Kyle's shoudlers, simply squeezed the back of the redhead's neck. "I'm serious," Kyle growled, turing his eyes to the ceiling instead, hoping to see any other color other than white. "No wonder people say they see a white light when they die. It's probably just the damned ceiling." Kenny snorted softly beside him.

"Talk about being bitter," The blonde chirped rolling his eyes lightly. "Quit that," His other hand stopped the knee that was bouncing. "You're giving me a panic attack. Like your mom said," Kenny smiled softly, brushing a hand through the red locks. "It'll be okay."

"Better be." Kyle muttered allowing himself to lean into the blonde.

Gerald hated that he couldn't be at the hospital with his wife and son. He had nearly had Bernadette cancel all of the meetings he had that day. But when Sheila simply smiled, and urged him to continue like normal, he couldn't say no. Besides, the faster he finished the cases and got them all to court, the faster that he could take a vacation and do something real with his family. Something he hadn't made nearly enough time for in the past. And with something dark looming in the future, Gerald couldn't nhelp but wonder if he would even be able to start making up for it in the future.

"A ten," He whispered pinching the bridge of his nose as he lost focus on the notes in front of him once more.

"A ten?" His client questioned anxiously. Gerald had nearly forgot the man was there; he had been so quietly wringing his fingers.

"Huh?" He glanced up and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Brandon. That wasn't aimed towards your case," He forced a smile. "But I do have some good news. The defendant would like to work out a plea bargain. How do you feel about that instead of court?"

"No offense," The man leaned forward. His greying hair, and withered expression reminded Gerald of himself that morning. "But Mr. Broflovski, that man killed my daughter in a drunken accident. I'd still have my daughter if it wasn't for him. I don't think it's fair. What would he even walk away with?"

"Involuntary Manslaughter is what they're aiming for," Gerald whispered leaning back. He could certainly see where the man was coming from. It had to be hard to lose his daughter so suddenly. She had been a good girl—went to school, made amazing grades, was popular and smart. Helen Brandon had her entire life ahead of her, and in one night it was ripped from her when she was crossing the street to her own yard.

"That's just not enough," The man whispered leaning back in his chair. "He made the choice to drink that night, he decided it was okay to climb behind the wheel. And because of him, I'm missing out on the best years of my life. My daughter was only twelve Mr. Broflovski...you can't imagine how it feels to lose someone so important."

Gerald knew it wasn't meant to hurt him; it was supposed to garner his sympathy. But in that moment, a force built up behind Gerald's eyes as he looked at his client. Tears swelled and fell down his face as he stared at the man.

"At least," He whispered forcing himself to look back at the papers that sat on his desk. "You have someone to blame. I can't sue a doctor for bad news." He closed the folder and pushed them across the desk with a new resolve. "We'll continue to court, get the longest we can for him. Hopefully, that gets it through his thick skull that he can't just do whatever he wants."

The words seemed to make Mr. Brandon feel better. He leaned back in his chair, his tense expression eased as he nodded.

"For what it's worth," He whispered looking at Gerald sincerely. "I hope you're kid is okay." Gerald smiled tightly; he knew the truth. But he wasn't ready to accept it just yet.

"Kyle Broflovski?" The nurses voice echoed throughout the waiting room. Heads snapped up at the sound; hoping it was them or their loved one being called. Kyle ignored the glares as he stood—a seemingly healthy teenager versus the woman who was clearly concussed, or the man who was bleeding through bandages wrapped around his wrist. "Right this way," The nurse smiled warmly as she ushered the group down the hall to the scale.

Kyle didn't hesitate to climb on, the urge to get this all over with and behind him winning out over the humilation of having Kenny read his weight.

The nurse hummed pursing her lips as the scale beeped, reading off his final weight.

"How has your apetite been?" She questioned as she jotted a note down on her pad. "Have you been making sure to eat?"

"Yes," Kyle lied through his teeth. It didn't go unnoticed by the nurse, but it seemed to comfort his mother slightly. Kenny on the other hand, shot him a glare that would stick with Kyle for the rest of the day.

"Right," The nurse arched a brow as she made another note. "Let's get your blood pressure then."

The check in took only five minutes, but Kyle felt his anxiety ball up, getting tighter ever minute that had passed. All he wanted was to get his blood drawn; looked at, and then sent home where he could sleep in his comfortable bed. Yet, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he had a feeling that he wouldn't be getting out of this damned hospital for a while still.

"Alright, this way. We've got a room booked for you upstairs, but it's being cleaned at the moment." The nurse muttered as she ushered the group down another white hall. Kyle clenched his fists as he looked around. The only difference between this hall and the last one was the silver medical equiptment that loitered around waiting for use. "The doctor will be in shortly." She held the door open to a small, surprisingly not as white room. There were small hints of mint green about the wall and the bed.

"Thank you," Sheila hummed as she seated herself on a chair across from her son. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Kenny glanced between Sheila and her son; surprised to just realize the similarities of the two. He knew, had he muttered any of them outloud, that Kyle would murder him, but damn.

It wasn't just the red hair either. Kyle looked so much like the male version of his mother that it was insane. He could imagine Sheila being thinner and still having the angular jaw line that her son sported. The same bright green eyes, and the pale skin with freckles. Gerald had brunette hair and brown eyes, both traits that should have won out in the gene pool. But Kyle had always been stuborn little shit.

"It'll be okay," Kenny sighed softly finding a spot beside Kyle. He didn't really know what else to say to comfort the boy. But as the time went on, he began to wonder who he was comforting more? Kyle or Sheila?

Thirty more minutes had passed in relative silence. Kyle couldn't keep his anxiety down, and Kenny couldn't keep his hands from brushing over the medical supplies in the room. He was just getting ready to open up the tongue depressors when the door opened revealing the familiar face.

"Hello, Kyle." Dr. Ruthbarn smiled warmly as his eyes caught sight of the redhead. Sometimes, he hated working with the pediatrics. But it was always the kids that he could save that reminded him that it was worth it—that what he was doing was good. "So I'm sure your mother told you about what we found on the last blood test?" Kyle simply nodded, his anxiety skyrocketing. "Well, I just want to double check. I want to be one hundred percent sure that the numbers are right. Because if not..." He trailed off letting the finality of it all hang in the air. "If not, we'll have to start looking at other means of treatment."

"A transplant..." Kyle sighed softly. "Right? It wouldn't be my first one..."

"I know," Dr. Ruthbarn nodded solemnly as he allowed himself to collapse onto the rolling stool reserved especially for doctors. "I'd rather not go that way. The risk of your body rejecting the kidney is a bit higher this time around. And even then, we'd only be able to get you one. You'd have to take it easy, you understand?"

Kyle nodded silently, his eyes staring blankly at the wall. Either way, he was doomed, is what the doctor was basically saying.

"What about the other dialysis?" Kenny blurted, before quietly slamming his jaw shut. It was something that he had found while doing research. It was another common treatment, but used only when the patient couldn't get a kidney, or as a second result for if the hemodialysis didn't work.

"That's what I wanted to talk to him about, actually." Dr. Ruthbarn smiled warmly at the blonde. "There's a second option. I want to try it for a few days, see if it can bring down his number's back to normal." He glanced at the Broflovski's warily. Over the past months, he had become increasingly aware of the fiery temperment that could bloom at any moment among the two.

"The peritoneal dailysis?" Sheila questioned softly. She had done her own research when Kyle had initially fallen sick when they were kids. Luckily, they had a transplant donor right in town, but if they hadn't, it would have been the best option. She glanced at her child and tried to imagine him with a tube attached to his stomach that would essentially cleanse him of anything unpure in his system. He wouldn't be able to go to school, because he would have to be hooked up to the machine on the regular.

"Exactly," The doctor nodded quietly. "I'd like to get him started tonight. The sooner the better. I figure while we wait for results we could go ahead and get him prepared for hook up. That way, no matter the results, it's there if we need it, if it gets too bad before we can find a replacement."

"So...that's the ultimate goal then?" Kyle's throat squeezed tightly around his adam's apple. "No matter what? I'm going to have to get a transplant?"

"It's looking that way," Dr. Ruthbarn nodded solemnly. "But I've got you at the top of a few lists. We're just waiting for a match." He tried to be chipper for the boy sitting in front of him. He wanted to reach out and comfort him. Promise him that this wasn't something he'd be dealing with for forever. But, kidney's in his blood type were hard to come by—and that was if they found one in time. If his creatinine was already at such high levels, he could practically put an expiration date on the kid's forehead.

"Can...Can I talk to you outside?" Sheila questioned softly standing from her position in the chair. Her knuckles were white with her grip on her purse. Her form trembled, and the doctor was damn near apologetic when he agreed.

"Of course."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Getting somewhere now! ^^ I'm thinking it's probably going to be anywhere from 20-25 chapters. Wow, longest thing I've ever written! Hopefully, the next idea I have will pan out to be just as long! 3 But We'll see!**

 **Chapter 17**

Gerald was the one to pick Ike up from school—to the youngest Broflovski's surprise. He had been expecting to take the bus over to Karen's, but the office had called him last minute to inform him that he needed to be in the car rider lane.

"Dad?" He questioned as he climbed into the car. Gerlad remained stony and silent as he pulled out of the school's drive. They had allowed him in first at the explanation—and allowed him to leave first. The parents behind him weren't happy that he had been able to cut the line, but he was sure that once word got out about what the Broflovski family was going through, they would understand. He could already feel the casseroles waiting for them on their porch every afternoon. Left by neighbors who weren't sure exactly how to comfort the family that would undoubtedly lose one of their own.

"I'm so sorry," Gerald whispered having to pull off to the side of the road only a mile away from the hospital. The thought had been weighing heavily on his mind all day. His last client understood that the father couldn't just sit at the office and wait for his day to be over. The woman had cut her time short, and still agreed to pay for the full hour. "Ike...I'm so sorry."

"Dad, you're scaring me." The youngest whispered quietly as he glanced up and down the roadside. "What's going on?"

Kenny paced the length of Stark's Pond. He had left Kyle alone after the drugs knocked him out. He couldn't stand around and watch them insert the tube that would cleanse him. The doctor had gotten the results back rather quickly, stating that he had put it in as an emergency. Eleven. His numbers had elevated since the last reading. They were entering dangerous territory; leaving Kenny with little choice.

He had excused himself from the room and shot off a text to Bebe. The blonde insisted that they let everyone know. That Kyle deserved to know just how much support he had behind him—so he would know how many people would miss him. And fuck if that hadn't sent Kenny spiraling into tears. He still wasn't sure what Kyle considered them after the kiss, but he certainly wanted something more. But the thought of losing him so soon gave him pause. Would he be able to handle it if things went wrong instead of right?

"Ken," Wendy was the first to arrive. Worry filtered through her eyes as she watched the boy shiver in front of her. "Bebe said you wanted to talk to us?"

Kenny paused in his movements to stare at the group that had entered the clearing. Mentally, he made note to abmonish his counterpart later, but he needed to be surrounded right now. He simply nodded, gulping hard as Stan joined his girlfriend.

"Eleven." He blurted out, watching the confusion form on the faces of those who didn't understand. Stan frowned heavily, his hands clenching by his side. "His uh...levels are really elevated." Kenny inhaled tightly. His chest felt like it couldn't expand with each breath he tried to take. He knew it was a panic attack, but he couldn't get it to stop. "They're trying a new type of dialysis..." He whispered before sinking onto the only bench.

"What can we do for him?" Butters stepped forward. His fingers wrung against each other as he glanced around at his friends. "I mean...I want to help."

"Me too," Token stepped up without shooting a glance to the crowd of students behind him. "Tell what we can do McCormick."

It was too much. Kenny glanced between everyone in the group—Stan, Bebe, Token, Clyde, Craig, Wendy, Butters. And so many more that Kenny couldn't be bothered to remember the names of. There were kids that Kyle had stood up for when they first came into high school. Kids that Kyle had tutored. Kids from their drama club; the ones who only knew that Kyle was skipping but never why.

"I don't know if there is anything we can do. He needs a new kidney," Kenny felt the tears build behind his eyes. The oncoming headache, and the frosted air all seemed to tighten the ball in his chest.

"Then we find him one," Craig uttered tugging his phone out of his pocket. "Bebe start a donation page. Token, share this post to all of your church groupies. We spread the word. Smartass teenager looking for kidney to survive."

Kenny glanced up at one of the few that he would call a true friend, and let his tears fall.

Kyle hated white. It was official. If he ever wore a white shirt, he'd burn it. If he had to stare at a white cloud, he'd hope it would fall to the earth in the flames of the apocalypse. White was the worst color on the shade spectrum. It could disappear of the scale, and he could care less.

"Quit staring at the ceiling like that," Sheila admonished softly patting Kyle's hand. "You'll wrinkle young if you don't." Her hands went back to busying themselves with the making of some scarf that she only worked on when she was stressed.

"This sucks," He muttered forcing himself to sit up. The port was still sore, causing him to flinch slightly at the jostling of it.

"It's just for a few days," His mother hummed looking up as the door opened. The nurse walked in, pushing a square, fax machine like technology on a cart.

"Hey hon! Ready for your first treatment?" It wasn't the same nurse from waiting room. This one was a bit more tolerable, Kyle found. She was a redhead like himself, but she didn't keep up the chipper facade—didn't try to hide the coffee that stained her breath and teeth.

"As I'll ever be," Kyle sighed softly leaning back on the bed and allowing her to hook him up to the machine. A light beeping at the corner of the room caught his attention, and before he knew it he was dozing off to the rhythmic tune.

Stan hadn't told anyone in his family what his super best friend was going through. It was part of giving Kyle the privacy that he demanded and wanted so badly. He knew he would probably tell Sharon eventually. His mother was like a rock in his life, something that he held dear, and someone to keep him leveled out when he couldn't talk to Kyle.

So when he went downstairs at night, Stan was hard pressed to keep his mouth shut about what was bugging him. Even Shelley had jumped on the band wagon with his mother in demanding he tell them what was bugging him.

"I think...Kyle's really sick. I'm just worried," He sighed heavily, pushing the plate of food away from him. His apetite had faded after the meeting at Stark's Pond. He had seen post after post shared on his facebook account, and welcomed the cry of support from random people around the world. But no one could offer what his redhead really needed.

"Again?" Shelley sighed rolling her eyes into the back of her head. It was a simple gesture that sent Stan's rage spiraling.

"Yes," He snapped shoving himself away from the table. "Again, Shelley." He shook his head, tossing all thoughts from his mind before turning and making his way up the stairs of his home to his bedroom. He wanted someone he could talk to, rant at—someone that would listen to him no matter what he was saying. Typically, that someone would be Kyle, but with him out for the count, Stan really needed someone else.

His phone vibrated on his night stand with a text message. Glancing at the memo, Stan found himself smling. The redhead always knew when he was needed.

 **Kyle:** Ew, look at this shit. Photo Attachment: 1

Stan groaned and gagged looking at the bag attached to the center of Kyle's stomach filled with a clear fluid that he wasn't sure he wanted to know what was happening. He could feel the bile rising in his throat as he typed out his reply.

 **Stan:** Dude, gross. Don't send me that kind of shit!

He could practically feel Kyle laughing at his response—which was good. He loved being able to make the redhead laugh, or rant and rave at video games. Or curse out the fat ass by telling him something that Cartman had said that day. It was a bit controlling, but it made him feel needed.

 **Kyle:** Lol, try being the one getting it done. But super hot nurse! Photo Attachment: 1

It was official. Stan knew that his super best friend was bored and probably looking for a way to keep his mind off of what was going on. If he wanted Stan to be that outlet, well, the raven haired teen would be happy to be his rock.

 **Stan:** Feeling up to a visitor? Shelley is driving me nuts.

 **Kyle:** You can't handle the picture, you really think you could handle it in person?

Point in case. Stan scoffed rolling his eyes. But Kyle was probably (most definitely) right, and he shouldn't go see him. If only because whatever it was that he hadn't eaten would find a way out into the world through his mouth.

His phone buzzed once more in his hand. This time it was Wendy who was, undoubtedly, excited about something that Bebe had told her. He wanted to be happy with her, to enjoy the moment for something really trivial, but he couldn't bring himself to it.

 **Wendy:** What if we have an early Prom? That way he could attend.

Ike laid on the bed beside his brother, careful of the catheter that had been inserted into him. It was so surreal to see his brother in the hospital bed, hooked up to an IV and some machine that was currently cleaning his blood. It was both an interesting and disturbing sight as the clear fluid went into his brother's peritoneal wall, tumbled around a bit, before leaking back out into the bag almost an entirely different color.

"Alright." The nurse chirped quietly as she entered the room. "That's all for that session." She smiled at Ike as her fingers nimbly began to remove the connections to his brother. "Mind if I take your vitals?" Kyle wouldn't respond, his eyes were closed, and he was mentally dead to the world—the doctor had prescribed a sleeping medication to be administered if he wasn't asleep before midnight.

With no response, the nurse hummed and wrapped an arm cuff around Kyle's upper arm. As soon as she attached it to the machine, it began to inflate. Then she grabbed and an ox-meter from her pocket and attached it to the redhead's finger tip.

"Will the doctor want more blood in the morning?" Ike questioned as he watched and noted his brother's vitals. So far they had all been normal, but in his sleep, his blood pressure had dropped, and his O2 readings were a bit higher—but still nothing to worry about. The nurse simply nodded, having already read over the orders that Dr. Ruthbarn had put in earlier.

"Yeah, he's hoping there's been at least a two point drop by morning. If there has been then he'll have to continue the frequent sessions at home." The nurse didn't hold back. Ike had asked her not to after his parent's had dozed off on the not-so-comfortable pull out bed. Gerald would probably have a back ache in the morning, and Sheila would be a bit more tempermental, but it wasn't anything Ike and Kyle couldn't handle.

"He's done it like five times today," Ike muttered watching as the bag that was attached to the machine was removed and tossed into a hazardous waste basket. "What about his school?"

The nurse hummed thoughtfully before smiling. "He could do sessions at the nurses office. Claim its for his diabetes. I'm sure everyone knows about that by now. Speaking of..." She pulled a glucometer out of her pocket. "I almost forgot!" Once she pulled the ox-meter off the thin finger, she pricked it. Kyle groaned in his sleep, and tried to tug his hand back from the nurse, but she simply tightened her grip—not much. Only slightly. Just enough pressure that sleeping Kyle couldn't tug his hand away. Ike appreciated the nurses honesty. "93! Perfect! Look at you go Kyle!"


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

 **A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long! But this was definitely a filler chapter, and man was it hard to write! D: Holy cow! But anyway, I hope you guys like it! Also, I'm going to be starting a second fanfic, since we're going to be finishing this up kind of soon? Like I've got at least another four or five chapters left, but I like to plan ahead to maybe keep an eye out for it? Anway, I hope you enjoy this chapter too!**

For the Broflovski family, good news came the following morning. Dr. Ruthbarn had made sure that Kyle's room would be the first that he visited upon his return to the hosptial. The results from the lab on his bloodwork had come back—and the results were perfect. Whatever it was that the hemodialysis couldn't get rid of, it seemd as though the other option had it under control. This would give the man just enough time (more than enough if he were lucky) to get a kidney registered to one Kyle Broflovski. Time was on his side for once.

"Kyle?" Dr. Ruthbarn smiled happily as he knocked at the door. A blonde wearing an orange parka answered, rubbing sleep from the bluest eyes the doctor had ever encountered. Dark cirlces lined his eyes, but they seemed to almost disappear when he noticed the energy pouring off of the doctor himself.

"He's asleep, but I can wake him up." The boy mumbled slipping back from the door to open it wider. The doctor stepped in nodding quietly as the blonde rushed over, making sure to kick a black haired teenager that slept in a rather uncomfortable position in one of the guest chairs.

"I hope he has a good chiropractor," Dr. Ruthbarn commented before remembering he was a doctor, and that wasn't professional. But the blonde didn't seem to mind, only snorted with a smirk and placed the gentlest hand on the form in the bed.

"I'm sure he does." Kenny nodded humming softly as his fingers shook Kyle's shoulder softly. Kyle simply groaned and swatted at the bony hand. "Nope, c'mon sunshine. Time to wake up."

"Go to hell," Kyle grumbled, his eyes opening blearily.

"Been there, and back. C'mon, your doc's here." Ken jumped off the bed to give Kyle a chance to sit up on his own.

"Well," Ruthbarn cleared his throat slightly, if only to get the conversation back on track. He did still have other patients to tend to—good news and bad news to deliver. But none of that particular news would be devestating, or life changing. It dealt mostly in the patients own personal health choices—diabetics who ate too much sugar, alcoholics who developed liver disease. They had all made their own choices to end up where they stood. But Kyle had made sure to follow his diet to a strict T; he didn't cheat. He made sure to check his sugar levels before and after ever meal, and took his insulin when it wasn't right. "I've got some really good news for you Kyle."

Kyle shot up, more active than he had been in months, and especially in the past few days that he had spent in the hospital. He even had a light pink tinge that lightened his cheeks.

"Good?" Kyle's voice lilted with a mild excitement. Good news meant that perhaps he would be able to get out of this white hell box sooner, rather than later.

"Mom!" Ike rushed down the stairs of his home. A small grin forming on his lips as he skidded to a halt. Kyle had just called him, alerted him to the good news. The redhead had tried to contact his parents, but guessed that their phones were both dead—not exactly uncommon. The Broflovski parents weren't always tech savvy.

"What is it, bubbie?" Sheila sighed tiredly as she stirred whatever she was cooking. It smelled amazing, always did. But Ike ignored his stomach in favor of being the one to give his mother the damned good news. "Kyle got a 5."

"A..." Realization dawned over Sheila as she clapped excitedly. "My baby got a five!" She giggled gasping to herself. The past few days had been hard, spent either at home making sure Ike was taken care of, or at the hospital to keep her poor bubbulah from fighting one of the too chatty nurses. "That's great!"

Ike nodded smiling, "Yea! Ruthbarn is sending Kyle home with one of the machines, orders to keep up with the dialysis, and to come back every three days for blood tests. Just to make sure its going down! Dad's signing the release papers right now!"

"That's great, baby!" She turned to her dish with a new fervor. "That's...That's amazing!"

When Gerald walked into the office, later in the day, he was not at all surprised to see Bernadette pouting in her chair. She was glaring at her newly manicured nails. Her curled blonde hair fell over her shoulder in soft waves that framed her face slightly like a halo. A heat began to broil in the pit of Gerald's stomach, but he stamped it out; reminding himself that he had a wife at home. A wife that had gifted him with two childred, and a home to even go to.

"Good Morning Gerry," Bernadette hummed glancing up from her nails only briefly. But that was all that he needed. His heart hudded, and his head clouded. Her eyes held that look that told him that she was ready, and wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. But this time, he wouldn't allow himself to have her. He willed his body to calm down, to not react to the female before him—it denied him the power.

"Good morning," He grunted, his voice cracking at the end. He cleared his throat, trying to push it off as a mild illness. Perhaps, he could say his allergies were bugging him. Or that he had been up too late thinking about his son. Surely, she would understand.

"Would you like your coffee?" It was the code. Gerald knew he should say no. He should make it damned clear that what they had was over. He had to recconect with his wife. _But what is one more time?_ His mind betrayed him; sent signals to his spine to nod his head. He found himself gulping with the idea of silky thighs spread wide over his lap.

"Black, if you don't mind." He scurried into his office, head bowed like the lustful coward he knows he is.

Kyle sighed happily as he collapsed into his bed. His green eyes rested while he ignored his super best friend and boyfriend slash other best friend bicker about some game that they had started on his tv.

"Kyle, tell him he's stupid, and that GTA is soo much better than Call of Duty?" Kenny whined collapsing beside the redhead—who rolled his eyes at the childishness.

"Sorry Ken, Call of Duty all the way," Kyle mumblde shoving his head into his pillow. Kenny simply huffed, and climbed off the bed crossing his arms.

"Fine traitor, then I'll go wallow in my own pity and play GTA at home!" Kenny pouted standing dramatically to storm out of the room. He wouldn't admit to the slight hurt, when neither Kyle nor Stan moved to stop him. He wanted Kyle to reach out and stop him, but there had been no progress since the late night kisses when Kyle was sick.

"See ya tomorrow, dude!" Stan called tiredly leaning further into the beanbag in the corner of the room. His eyes drooped lazily beneath the rim of his hat, and even the blonde knew Stan wouldn't make it awake much longer.

"Yea, see ya." Kenny sighed tugging his parka hood up to either brace himself or hide himself. He wasn't sure anymore which comfort it provided.

"I'll walk you to the door," Kyle hummed shooting a patient glance towards Stan. The ravenette simply nodded waving him off towards the door. Kyle pursed his lips, and rolled his eyes lightly as he made his way towards the blonde. " C'mon Ken." Kyle hummed draping his arm throuhg Kenny's and tugging him to the door.

"You don't gotta," Kenny mumbled worryign his bottom lip. He was sure the redhead was probably tired, but he warmth that seemed to radiate from where Kyle had gripped his arm.

"Sure I do," Kyle hummed glancing around the room. Something mischevious glinted in the redhead's eyes; an all too familiar spark that Kenny had seen so often in their elementary school days. "Besides, I figured we'd need to talk," Kyle muttered the last part, keeping his voice low as if he were trying to keep it a secret.

"Huh?" Kenny's curiosity was piqued, but he allowed Kyle to push him out onto the porch and shut the door behind them. At some point, while he was inside, snow began to fall heavily, lilting to the sidewalk and coating it.

"Well...I mean..." Kyle sighed rubbing his forehead heavily. "Mom is going to pull me out of school. So I'm going to be homeschooled from now on." He fidgeted heavily, his figners intertwining within themselves in confusing patterns.

"Yeah," Kenny sighed softly. "Don't worry, I'll keep you up to date on Stan's games." The blonde glanced out towards the road, doing his best to ignore the light blush that daintily coated Kyle's cheek. He knew when he first pressed his lips against the redhead's that he'd never win; that Stan would always be Kyle's number one. He thought he was ready to accept it, and hell, he had been over the moon when his soft lips kissed back. It was all more than he had ever expected from the redhead.

"Huh?" Kyle quizzed furrowing his brow. "What does Stan's football games have to do with my homescholing? He'll tell me himself...I'm wanting to hang out with you. I know with the hospital, and then the whole...fiasco before that, we haven't really been able to hang out just the two of us." Kyle sighed pursing his lips lightly. The confusion that contorted his face only made the redhead seem cuter; at least to the blonde.

"What?" Kenny had to bite back the surprise that etched its way into his voice. "I thought...but..."

"Kenny," Kyle sighed softly crossing his arms. For once in his life, he felt severely self concious and unsure of what turn the conversation was going to take. "We all know I've got a hard on for Stan...It's not exactly a secret. But I'm okay with it being just a fantasy...if you don't mind?" His voice pitched at the end, as his figners dug further into his own jacket and skin. If he were to look later, he knew he would find small finger tip shaped bruises.

"So...you're saying?"

"I'm saying," Kyle sighed, his face turning as red as his hair. He ran his fingers through his hair, flinching only lightly when they got tangled in the curls. "I'm saying..." He inhaled deeply and grabbed Kenny's hoodie. With a slight tug, the blonde stepped forward, allowing Kyle to control just how close he got. "I'm saying this you stupid!" Lips were shoved into lips, leaving Kenny wide eyed and surprised. Kyle pulled back and sighed exasperated. "You're supposed to kiss back, ya know?"

Kenny spluttered, for once unable to articulate what exactly it was that he was thinking.

"Y-yeah, I know!" He found it hard to work his mouth, but the words seemed to tumble out somewhat recognizable—even with the few unexpected consonants and vowels that found their way into his speech. "Wait, let me try again!" Thin hands grasped at Kyle's sweater, tugging him even closer. But a mischevious smirk found its way onto the ginger's face.

"Nope! You had your chance! One chance every day." Kyle hummed softly, nearly dancing away from the blonde. "You'll just have to try again tomorrow, when you come over for dinner."

"Dinner? Will a movie follow?" Kenny found himself grinning at the prospect of an evening alone with Kyle.

"We'll see!" Kyle hummed coquettishly, his hands linking together behind his back. "Depends on how late you wanna stay."

"The night!" Kenny blurted without taking a second to consider the consequences. An impish smile filled Kyle's face, and left the blonde reeling. The expression made him both excited, and slightly scared of whatever it was that Kyle was planning.

"I'm sure I can work that out!" Kyle bit his lip, holding back a grin. "So I'll see you tomorrow!" He shoved the blonde out the door playfully, before slamming it. Kenny rolled his eyes slightly. It was on rare occurences that Kyle acted like that. He had only been privvy to the experience twice before, and each time the ministrations had been aimed towards a certain ravenette.

"Ass!" The blonde called through the door laughing. It was a great feeling to have the excitement bubbling in his stomach. It made looking forward to the next day just a bit more exciting.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Well we're getting near the clear up of the Bernadette issue! I hope you guys are enjoying it thus far! :) Sorry for the long wait; work has been unecessarily hectic.**

 **Chapter 19**

Today was the day. Bernadette smiled wickedly to herself as she stared at the computer screen. As per her plan, Gerald never found the camera she had hidden in the bookshelf of his office. It was like a charm, like it was all too easy. Her finger scrolled on the roller wheel as she glanced through all of the still shots that would undoubtedly make Gerald Broflovski hers forever. After all, what wife would forgive a man for such an atrocious act?

She sighed contently as she paused on a specific picture. Gerald was burried inside of her as she was bent over his desk. The look of pleasure on her face was endearing, but the man behind her looked only at her body. It was thrillig; knowing that a man wanted her just for her body. Most women, she knew, would be disgusted, but she had been overweight growing up—had never known the lusty looks that teenage boys threw towards the girls their age. She had only ever imagined it, and now that she didn't have to, it was enthralling. Intoxicating even.

"Good morning," Gerald mumbled as he stepped into the office that morning. She jumped up to greet him; butterflies flittering in her stomach as she caught sight of the mans hair, and the thick tweed jacket he wore everyday.

"Good morning, Gerald." The blonde woman purred into the name. It rolled off of her tongue like it was a liquid gold that only he could cash in on. With quick fingers, she worked her way under his jacket, taking seconds to feel his body underneath a warm cotton shirt. Bernadette wanted nothing more than to rip it right off of the man in front of her; to memorize every curve and contour of the mans body. She wanted him to want her, and needed to see that fire in his eyes.

"Hey Bernadette," A second voice interupted the moment; it was small, and young. The secretaries jaw clenched tightly as she jerked back to catch a glimpse of bright red hair. Now could certainly be her chance. But how would she feel about it being one of his children that caught them?

A small smirk fell over the blonde's face as she stepped back and away from her boss.

"Good morning Kyle! Look at you all grown up! You never come visit me here anymore," She made sure to push her plump bottom lip out while crossed her arms. A gesture Gerald would know is more geared towards him than his redheaded brat. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?" There was a dark malice that underlay the statement. She hadn't meant for it to be there, but the point was certainly taken when a slender brow—and really what man has eyebrows that well manicured?-arched delicately on the kid's brow.

"Uh...I'm homeschooled now, and didn't feel like staying at home?" Kyle shrugged quietly glancing around his father's office. The secretary simply hummed, before taking her place at the desk in the front.

Kenny bounced his knee anxiously as he glanced at the clock just above the white board in his english class. A few more hours and he'd be able to spend time with a certain redhead. Of course, that would have to be after drama, and Wendy had practically bombarded him with ideas for the dance that they had managed to reschedule. He had practically been forced to join the committee, but he didn't mind. It would give him something to do when Kyle couldn't spend the afternoon with him—at least up until the dance was over.

"Dude," Stan whispered tapping Kenny's knee. They didn't have normal desks in this class. It was a longer table that could fit two people, and Kenny had always chosen to sit next to Stan. "You okay? You're giving me anxiety."

Kenny simply snorted, a soft smile dancing it way onto his lip. Stan still didn't know about the blonde and his super best friend—a secret that Kyle had been absolutely okay with, to the shock of Kenny.

"Just got something to do after school is all!" The blue eyed boy buzzed lightly, his eyes glacning back up at the clock. Only a two minutes had passed. "Oh my god," He groaned heavily tossing his pencil down. The day was going to last forever.

Bernadette glared heavily at the oak door that seperated the front of the building from the private office of Gerald. Typically, he would leave it open, allowing her to visit whenever she wanted. But with his kid at the office, he'd closed it, and had yet to come out to her. Her lips pursed annoyed as she filled her cup once again with the water from the drinking fountain.

It was nearing one o'clock, and she was positive that both Broflovski's would come out looking for food soon. After all, they couldn't go the full day with absolutely nothing to eat, and she hadn't noticed any lunch boxes or bags brought with them. Her own stomach had begun growling a few minutes ago. Still, she couldn't bring herself to ask them about it just yet. Her fingers were still scrolling through the footage, deciding which pictures were the best. She had even printed out a few of them, and left them in the drawers of her desk.

"Bernadette?" A soft voice broke through her mental turmoil, causing her to look up and meet the greenest eyes she had ever taken note of. "Dad and I are going to lunch. He said to tell you we'll be back." Bitterness swept into her veins almost instantly.

"Okay," She sighed leaning back in her chair. "I'll lock up here then. I was planning on getting food too. Maybe we could all eat together?" She put on her best smile; the one that told the other person that she was one hundred percent innocent of whatever mal-thoughts they may have of her. It was how she had gotten out of trouble so much during her school years. She watched as his fingers rounded about themselves in a worrying motion. The redhead had never been comfortable around her; at least not once he hit puberty.

"Uh...Sure I'll ask dad." Kyle quickly turned back into the room. It took only a few seconds before he walked back out, his hands fidgeting at his waiste line once again. "He said sure. So...Get ready?"

"Thanks!" Bernadette chirped humming as she set the clock to lunch time and grabbed her coat.

Lunch was awful.

Kyle was forced to watch as his father lowkey flirted with the blonde secretary that Kyle had little to no patience for. Her hand always found a way to grasp at his father's. The obvious and obnoxious giggles that escaped her throat were grating, and driving Kyle to the end of his nerve line. But the worst part was that his father didn't seem to think any of it; like he was used to the goo goo eyes that Bernadette was sending him—and he was sending back.

A ball of rage began to build in his lower abdomen as he watched further. Then he realized exactly what was going on between the two.

To them, this was normal. This was something that they had done every day for who knows how long. His father was cheating on his mother, with this stupid blonde who was probably only manipulating him because she saw how much money he could make per case.

Kyle had to excuse himself, which is how Kyle found himself bundled in his hoodie and stalking around the darkening streets of Denver on a thursday night. Long ago, he had turned off his phone, no longer interested in what his father had to say, and he was tired of feeling it buzz with his messages. The redhead wanted nothing more than to be at home, curled up in his bed, and innocent to whatever was going on with his dad.

"Stupid..." Kyle growled collapsing onto a small bench at a bus stop. The light bulb in the overhead lamp was flickering, obviously in need of change, but Kyle paid it no mind. He leaned his head back against the bench, and tugged his phone out to stare at the black screen. He thought of turning it on, if only to text Kenny or Stan; probably Kenny at this point. Stan would be at practice, or with Wendy doing something for the school. He had mentioned helping Wendy set up for a surprise.

A strong gust of chilled wind blew through the red curls and caused Kyle to slightly curl in on himself. Frustration was an emotion that he was used to. He could handle it and shove it down deep inside of himself, holding onto it until he found the perfect time to release it. But the feeling that was building in his chest as he thought over the minor things that had happened during lunch seemed to be drowning him. His chest tightened every time he thought of the way Bernadette glanced at Gerald—the lust that clouded her face, and her hand that scrambled to be touching him at any and every point.

"Kyle?" A familiar voice broke into his thought path. Kyle's head jerked up, his green eyes seeking out the familiar cerulean blues that he had been thinking of earlier in the day. "Kyle," Kenny sighed, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Your dad called. I was worried," He smiled warmly sitting beside the redhead on the bench.

"He's cheating on my mom," Kyle blurted, sinking further into the bench, not allowing his eyes to travel over the blonde sitting next to him—not that it particularly perturbed him.

Kenny had been trying to finish his math homework when the phone call had come through. Gerald had been in a panicy huff, and said that he hadn't been able to get into contact with Kyle for the better half of three hours or so. When asked why, Gerald hesitated, but had come clean.

"Yeah," He sighed leaning into Kyle softly. The redhead relaxed slightly, allowing himself to lean back against Kenny. "I heard. I'm sorry man," He muttered, his fingers carding through the curls at the nape of Kyle's neck.

"I can't not tell my mom," A soft breath escaped as Kyle leaned into the minstrations. He would never admit it out loud, but he absolutely loved it when people played with his hair. It relaxed the tension at the base of his skull, which, in turn, relaxed his shoulders and eased some of his stress. "I mean...She deserves to know right?" Kenny simply shrugged softly allowing himself to glance up at the starless sky.

"Who's the say? If you tell her would it be beneficial? Or would it cause more problems? Maybe you should give your dad a chance to. Why should you be the bearer of bad news?"

"Because what if he doesn't tell her?" Kyle sighed tugging his knees up to his chest. He pushed his forehead into them; seemingly curling into himself like a turtle. A slight chilll was starting to set into his bones, and he couldn't decide if it was from the temperature drop, or from the knot that was forming in his stomach. "What if, no matter what, I have to be the one to break her heart? What if it hurts her more that I didn't tell her as soon as I found out?"

"It's going to hurt her no matter what," Kenny grasped Kyle's shoulder and forced him to unball himself. "It's going to suck, but that's for your parents to deal with. Not you. You've got enough crap on your plate..."Kenny pursed his lips and sighed heavily. "They're adults Kyle. They'll figure it out."

"And if they don't?" Kyle whimpered softly. He hated the idea of his parents divorcing, but was it an inevitable option now that Kyle knew? "What if they don't figure it out? What if my mom kicks my dad out? Or my dad decides he likes that stupid slut more than he likes his family? I mean I guess I can't really blame him...We're a lot to deal with. I'm a lot to deal with," The redhead paused as if thinking of something about.

"Kyle," Kenny snapped slightly, jumping from his position amongst the bench. His thin hands reached out to grap Kyle, and tug him to his chest. "You are not a lot to deal with. Your anger and rage, well...that's a whole other story. But you, Kyle Broflovski, are not a lot. In fact," The blonde leaned back and smiled down at his emerald eyed mate softly, "I don't think there's enough of you to really go around." A small smile cracked its way onto Kyle's face, forcing the redhead to shove at the shoulder of his blonde knight.

"You're so damn cheesy," The redhead chuckled softly brushing the back of his hand against his cheeks.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Welp, Bernadette...Oh boy~**

 **Chapter 20**

Kyle hated the atmosphere of his home with a passion. Over the past three days, his father had done his best to completely avoid the fiery redhead. His mother often asked what was wrong, but had neither received an answer, nor a happier child.

Sheila never failed to notice the rigidness in her son's shoulders whenever Gerald had dinner with them; when he had time between cases and doing his own research to join his family. It hadn't taken a scientist to know exactly what Kyle had found out—the redheaded woman had been positive of it for a few years now. After all, when one's husband stops acting like she hung the stars, it's obvious his interest lies elsewhere. She just never figured out where exactly Gerald's interests had burried themselves.

"Kyle?" Sheila questioned as she made her way up the stairs. Every step she took hurt her knees, but it was a pain that she had kept well hidden—even on her worst of days.

"Yea?" Kyle stuck his head out of his door incuriosity. Sheila made note that he was certainly due for a hair cut, but she could remind him later. "What's up ma?" He questioned warily.

"How's your homework coming along?" There were other things she wanted to ask him. If he knew. How did he find out? What on earth was going through his head?

"I'm just about done," He sighed softly, as if relieved that was all that she had wanted.

"Great! I'll make you a snack then!" Sheila couldn't find the strength to ask her son what was eating him. Not when she knew exactly what it was. She just wasn't ready to face it just yet. For just a little while longer she wanted to pretend that her family was normal as it could get.

 _I'm comin to get you -Ken_

Kyle stared at the text message sent by a special blonde only ten minutes ago. If he were right, and he usually was, Kenny would be at his house in another five minutes almost exactly. Enough time for Kyle's nerves to bundle down in the pit of his stomach as butterflies began to flitter through his chest—not a rare feeling when he found himself thinking of alone time with the blonde.

"Ma!" He called as he thundered down the staircase. It had been a rather good day after his father had left for work. "Ma! Ken's coming to get me!" He slid around the corner and paused seeing his mother staring at the table, her lower back leaned against the kitchen counter. "What's wrong?"

"Bernadette, huh?" Sheila's broken voice cracked softly as a tear made its way down her cheek. Kyle's shoulders dropped instantly as he was pulled back into the reality that was his home life. "I guess I should have known." She sighed brushing the tear away and smiled at her son. "You said Kenny's coming to get you bubbie?"

"Yeah...But I can stay if you need me," Kyle offered quietly. A rage was building behind the wall that was Kyle Broflovski. Just like his mother, he had never been good at hiding it, but that didn't mean he couldn't bide his time until the ticking bomb finally exploded. "Kenny would understand."

"No bubbie," Sheila smiled softly, waving her son off towards the door. "Go enjoy yourself. This is between your father and me. We'll have to figure it out, okay? Go have fun." As his mother, Sheila didn't miss the smile and perk in her son when the doorbell rang. Just like she didn't miss the way the blonde looked at her son. There was a lot of things that Kyle thought she didn't know, but she was fully aware.

"Alright, if you're sure...But call me if you need me yea?" Kyle muttered, his eyes darting between Kenny and his mother. He was torn on whether or not he should really go. His mother had found out, and how he wasn't sure. But she knew, and she was hurt. He wanted to be there for her, just like she had always been there for him.

"Of course," Sheila scoffed lightly and rolled her eyes fondly. The overprotectiveness had no doubt come from her side of the gene pool.

"Alright," He nodded grabbing his own hoodie and darted out towards the blonde, waiting until the door was closed tightly to pull him into a hug.

"Everything okay?" Kenny commented. He was concerned about what was going on in the household. Tension in the Broflovski family wasn't new, but it always varied depending on circumstance. He could handle the anxiety that built up whenever Kyle fell sick, but to know and be fully aware that the family was falling apart, was a whole new feeling that Kenny couldn't really comprehend.

"As okay as it can be," Kyle sighed shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. Already, his nose was tinging pink, and his cheeks were flushing. He could feel the chill of the day seep into his joints, sending mild pains shooting through his hips and up his back. "Mom found out." He whispered as he crawled into Kenny's not much warmer truck. The poor blonde couldn't afford to get the heater in his truck fixed, and therefore was forced to ride around with blankets that didn't warm up as fast as would have been liked. They did, however, do their job when in a tought spot. He couldn't remember how many times Kenny had handed him a blanket while they were out partying at Stark's Pond, or the summer when Stan insisted that they go camping, and they got stuck at the campe site when a sudden snowfall hit.

"I'm sorry," Kenny reached over and squeezed the redhead's hand. He grabbed one of the blankets from the back of the truck, and draped it over both of their laps. Kyle tucked the blanket under his legs, trying to get them to warm up as fast as he could. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Not really," Kyle hummed leaning into the blonde's arm. It was a hidden secret, Kenny had learned, that Kyle loved to cuddle. It was the quickest way to calm the redhead down from anything that was upsetting him. Kyle being closer to him was just a very happily added bonus.

Pressing a quick kiss to his fiery ginger's forehead, Kenny started the car and headed out towards Stark's Pond. His fingers thrummed against the steering wheel as he steered them ever closer to the destination. Excitemen bubbled silently under the blonde's chest. He had planned out a whole evening for Kyle, and he planned to get the redhead to relax and enjoy it.

Nothing had to be said as they pulled into the parking spot. Off in the corner was a ratted blanket, settled over a couple of wooden pallets made from two by fours. Ontop of the blanket was an electric lantern, as well as a few pillows. Inwardly, Kyle swooned at the sight. He felt the tide of his stomach roll, and swirl. In fact, he damn near giggled, but he would never admit that to anyone that wasn't himself.

"What is this?" His voice is light, and breathy.

"This is for you," Kenny hummed happily, trapsing around the front of the truck. His hand instantly latches onto Kyle's. "I've been meaning to do a real date for a while now, ya know?"

Red rushed to Kyle's cheek, nearly making him glow in the setting sun.

"A real date?" Kyle walked over to the makeshift bed and sunk onto it. It was definitely a lot softer than it seemed. Kenny had even splurged, and put heated blanket under the ratty one that was laid over it. "I...This is great Ken, really." Kyle smiled softly, patting the spot beside him. "Now come make it better."

Kenny grinned not being gentle what so ever in his collapse onto the blanket.

"You like it? I even had chinese ordered. It should be delivered in like another five or six minutes." The blonde pretended to glance at his imaginary watch.

Stan Marsh was a very upset quarterback on friday night. Wendy had been riding his ass all day, and then his super best friend had missed his hardest football game yet, and to top it all off Eric Cartman was approaching him with some trashy red head on his arm from the opposing cheer team.

"Oi, Marsh~" Eric nearly sang as he trotted up to him. Leave it to the fatass to be unable to properly jog a few feet. Stan found himself pursing his lips in order to keep his mouth shut. A smug look covetted Cartman's face; a look that was never a very good thing. "You lost. Good job!" He laughed, his hand squeezing minutely on the cheerleaders waist.

"We did our best," Stan snapped brushing a hand over his face. He didn't really have time for any of Cartman's shit. He had been invited to a post-game party and had every intention of showing up and getting absolutely blasted.

"Your best? Hah!" Cartman snorted, pushing the female away from him a bit. He leaned back, looking even more smug—if that were possible. "You were probably too distracted because your boyfriend was screwing po' boy!"

Stan did his best not to bristle at the comment. The entire school knew better than to make jabs at Kyle in front of Stan. He couldn't remember how many faces he had bruised and bloodied in junior high when the idea started to come about. Even when he had silently admitted to himself that Kyle was probably a twink, he had never allowe anyone else to say something.

So it was second nature for Stan when he raised his fist and sent it flying straight into Eric's nose. A satisfying crunch eminated from the fatass's face. The raven haired male growled shaking the shock from his wrist. It would hurt later, he was sure. He hadn't formed his fist right, and had turned it at the last moment so his wrist took the brunt of the pain and not his actual fist. He would certainly feel it later that night, if not the following day.

"You really shouldn't talk about yourself so unkindly," Stan sneered, ignoring the way the cheerleader squeaked and trembled slightly. Her fists were drawn into her chest, and her eyes were uncomfortably wide. Typically, Stan would have felt bad about scaring anyone—especially a girl. However, he couldn't find it within himself to really care at the moment. He was always at his worst when he lost a game.

"What the fuck!?" Cartman hissed, his hand grasping his already swelling nose. "Not cool Stanley. Not cool." Blood dripped down his top lip, and slipped into his mouth. Cartman gagged at the sensation. He hated the coppery taste, and the color of blood. Hell, if he were to admit it, other than Kyle being a faggoty Jew, his hair was a close third contender for reasons he hated the boy.

Stan simply scoffed at the reaction, and turned on his heel, storming towards the group of cars that littered the southern end of the football field. It was where all of the students and local visitors parked; a prime spot right next to the main road, easy to get out of, and close enough that they could sneak a beer into the game without being caught. And booze is exactly why Stan was headed that way anyway.

Kyle sighed contentedly as he stepped into his warmed house hold. His flushed cheeks were, for once, not from the chill that nipped at them, but instead from the kiss that Kenny had planted on his lips in the car. The blonde had almost demanded that Kyle allow him to walk him up to the steps, but Kyle wasn't quite ready for his parents to figure out what was going on.

"I'm home!" Kyle hummed hanging his jacket on the coat rack that his mother had only recently placed by the door. A beat of silence followed the call, before a blonde stepped out from the kitchen. Around her, a pink apron that was his mothers.

"Hello Kyle!" Bernadette chirped, a devious smile forming on her face.


End file.
